There's a dangerous band of renegade punks harassing the populace. They
maraud and pillage leaving a trail of broken victims cowering in their wake.
This band of soulless thugs are called telemarketers.
Telemarketers have been a problem for ages. The very first completed phone
call consisted of Alexander Graham Bell saying, "Mr. Watson, come here, I want
you." The second completed call consisted of a guy phoning Bell to sell him
a Ginzu knife.
Telemarketers are becoming increasingly obnoxious, which is a little like
Pauly Shore becoming increasingly obnoxious. Now many calls are pre-recorded.
These people cannot be hung up on. Well, they can be hung up on. The below
is a sample call I received.
ME: Hello?
TELEMARKETER RECORDING: Hi, guys! I'm calling to inform you of a wonderful
new opportunity regarding a great deal on a magazine subscription to Ferret
Fancy...
CLICK
Two minutes later I pick up the receiver to make a call.
TELEMARKETER RECORDING: ...your subscription to Ferret Fancy is free for two
months, at which time the subscription rate of $59.99 per year will apply...
CLICK
A minute later I pick up the phone, still trying to get a call out.
TELEMARKETER RECORDING: ... In addition to enjoying Ferret Fancy you will be
eligible, with a three year subscription, to receive a free Ferret Phone...
The worst calls often occur when I'm unable to answer the phone.
The other night I returned home to find my message light blinking.
TELEMARKETER MESSAGE ON MY MACHINE: "Hey guys! Great news! There's going to
be an automobile auction IN YOUR TOWN! Now get a pen and paper and write
this down. I'll wait a minute... (PAUSE) Ok, guys, you ready? The auction
takes place Tuesday, the twenty-ninth at 10 a.m...."
(The next two minutes consist of the voice providing details on the where
and when of the auto auction until my answering machine is full.)
However, the news about telemarketers isn't all bad. Under recently enacted
legislation telemarketers can no longer block their numbers. Their number
must show up on your caller i.d. Which frequently leads to return calls like the
following.
TELEMARKETING CENTER LADY: Hello. You've reached (inaudible mumble)
ME: Hey guys! Sorry I missed your call last night, but I had to attend a
wake. I was still in grieving mode when I found that you had left an extremely
long message on my answering machine. Anywho, I decided to take you up on
your offer for the replica ceramic donkey dung collectibles representing donkey
dung found in every country in the Southern Hemisphere for only 9.95, plus 87
dollars for shipping and "handling.".
TELEMARKETING CENTER LADY: What credit card would you like to use?
ME: Credit card? You must be joking! My credit score is maybe 85. I can't
buy gum on credit. Will you take an IOU, or, I can pay with Happy Meal coupons.
TELEMARKETING LADY: So, then will this be a cash on delivery?
ME: Yes.
TELEMARKETING LADY: Address please?
ME: 134 Curly Moe and Larry Drive, Carrot Top, Nova Scotia, the zip is
67094679346894567 dash 3456822377890.
TELEMARKETING LADY How do you spell Nova Scotia?
CLICK
Don't get me wrong, telemarketing is a tough job. I know because the very
first job I had was setting appointments by phone for carpet cleaners. It was
cold calling. The profession which makes coal mining look easy. I soon
learned that the American public embraces telemarketers as much as the American
Public embraces Jehovah's Witnesses ringing their doorbells on Christmas Eve.
And it's tough being 17, excited to be entering the work force, when two
minutes past 9 a.m. on your very first job you hear, "CREEP! You woke me up to
tell me about 20% off on rug cleaning? You ignorant (beep). Give me your
address so I can come down there tell you what a (beep) you are in person." (Turns
out this was one of the nicest guys I met in the work force.)
So I always tried to have an ounce of empathy for these poor telemarketing
souls. Until they began to fight dirty by prerecording their calls.
Which is
exactly what I just told the lady at the call center in the four minute
message I left on her voice mail, the last two minutes of which consisted of me
rapping, "Who Let The Dogs Out."
