Local here covers a great deal of ground
The city and its county merged their governments more than fifty years ago, and the
city limits went out with them. Indianapolis is not a dense core with suburbs arranged
around it. It is a wide, flat piece of country with housing running for miles in every
direction, nothing in the landscape to say where it ought to end, and working farmland
still inside the line.
So two customers can both hand you an Indianapolis address and be the better part of
an hour apart. Your number cannot tell them apart. Both codes cover the lot, and the
caller assumes you already know where they are standing.
The cheapest place to settle that is before anybody picks up. A greeting naming the
parts of the metro you cover lets a caller on the wrong side of it hang up in ten
seconds instead of ten minutes. Ordinary auto attendant
work.
Ice is the local hazard, and it is a power problem
Central Indiana sits on the line where a winter storm cannot make up its mind. North
of here it falls as snow, south of here as rain, and here it does the thing in between
often enough to plan around: freezing rain that loads every wire in the county and then
brings some of them down. Snow is a driving problem. Ice is a power problem.
Power is where a phone over the internet differs honestly from the copper it
replaces. A wired desk phone drew what little it needed from the line and kept working
in a dark building. Your router does not.
That is not an argument for staying on copper. It is an argument for settling in
advance what a call does when the building is dark. Sent to mobiles, or to a message
saying when you will call back, an outage is an inconvenience.
Left alone it is a ringing tone on the one morning everybody in the county wants
somebody who fixes things. See virtual phone
system.