by Bad Girl
I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of
telemarketing. Not that I have anything
against the telephone, per se.
Personally, I think Alexander Graham Bell deserves sainthood. After all, without the phone, how would we ever
know what our teenage daughters are doing?
My beef is that no matter when a teenage daughter walks away
from a phone, it inevitably rings and there’s a salesperson on the other end. In fact, the only time I ever get a phone
call these days is when somebody wants my money.
Salesperson: “Hello! Is this Mrs. Campbell?”
Me (Suspicious. No one calls me Mrs. Campbell): “Who is this?”
Salesperson: “How are
you tonight?”
Me: “Are you selling
something?”
Salesperson: “Me? Ha ha.
Oh no. Don’t be ridiculous. Does your house have aluminum siding?”
Me: “I knew it.
Salesperson: “Duct
cleaning? New windows? Lawn spray?”
Me: “I live in a
tent.”
Salesperson: “INSURANCE! You need insurance. Let me tell you about our extended fire policy
for teepees-"
Me: (click)
The phone rings again.
Second Salesperson: “Is
this the Campbell residence?”
Me: “No, you
dolt. When was the last time you talked
to a building?”
Second Salesperson: “And
how are you tonight?”
Me: “I’m going to get
a gun.”
Second Salesperson: “Well,
you are going to feel even better.
Because YOU have been especially chosen to receive this beautiful set of
genuine rat bone steak knives, simply by answering a few questions for this
totally legitimate and potentially useless marketing survey which they are
paying me diddleysquat to administer: Do
you have aluminum siding?”
Me: “No. But do you
sell guns?”
I am starting to fight back.
There is going to be a new ring of Hell built solely for the nameless carbon
based life forms who call up poor homeowners in the dinner hour. I am going to help build it. In the meantime, in the grand tradition of
the best defense being a good offense, here is my new technique:
(ring)
Third Salesperson: “I’m
from the Wheelchair Volleyball Association.”
Me: “Don’t be
ridiculous. Wheelchairs don’t play
volleyball.” (click)
(ring)
Fourth Salesperson: “Hello,
is this Mrs. Campbell?”
Me (giggling insanely):
“Ollie, oh goody! It’s another
salesperson! You trace the call while I put the meat cleaver in the car-“
(click)
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