There is only one good thing I can really say about having moved to Los Angeles: Telemarketers.
I know, you think I’ve flipped my lid. I mean it though. You see, after the Misses and I moved down here our phone number changed. This means that all those databases that we were in that prompted so many newspapers, long distance companies, mortgage houses and credit card companies to call us now had an old phone number. This means that when they go to call us their automated system gets the change of number message, reads it as an answering machine, and I’m saved from dealing with an intrusion into my home through the phone. I know this reprieve is only temporary, but I sure love it.
It’s funny how it is kind of a double edged sword though. You see, we used to get so many telemarketers calling that I decided war had been declared, and I was taking no prisoners. Just about any bit or idea you have heard about what to do to telemarketers when they call was perpetrated by yours truly. My personal favorite went like this:
Phone rings.
Me: Hello?
Telemarketer (TM): Yes, may I please speak to Mr. or Mrs. Wilkins
Me: You got ’em. What can I do for you?
TM: Yes Mr. Wilkins, I am calling to let you know that you have been pre-approved for a Platinum Mastercard with
an introductory rate of only 2.9% interest for six months. All I have to do to get you your new platinum card is to ask a few questions.
Me: So, you are phoning on behalf of a credit card company?
TM: Yes Mr. Wilkins, now if you…
Me: Son, let me tell you something. We do not use credit cards in this home. We believe that credit cards are a blight upon our modern day society introduced by the Evil of evil’s himself, Lucifer. So are you going to tell me you are phoning my home and representing Satan himself.
TM: (pause) Yes Mr. Wilkins, I guess I am. Good-bye.
Just a few simple moments and another victory is won in the battle for my privacy and I get some light entertainment on the side.
I need to get out more.
-WW
