Edit… retype… update… if I can just concentrate on getting this article written, I can have it out the door in time for deadline.
RING RING RING RING
A quick note for all.Β The telephone in my home office is a bright red Western Electric 2500 push-button bell-ringing phone from the 1970’s.Β I like having a mixture of vintage technology and modern technology in my home office, it allows me serenity.
RING RING RING RING
Unfortunately, I never got around to adding a Caller ID module to my vintage phone, so I have to take the call. It could be my editor. It could be my daughter.
“Hello?”
Silence.Β Then a click.
“Could I speak to Wicki Miller, please?”
I’m assuming the caller on the other end has misread my wife’s name, or else the caller thinks my wife’s maiden name was Pedia.
“This is her husband, can I help you?”
“Yes, sir.Β I’m from August Cove Resorts in Florida…”
Rats.Β I’m now stuck talking with a telemarketer, who would like nothing more than to sell me a timeshare on some fleabag motel that’s three counties away from Walt Disney World.
And he just interrupted me while I’m trying to get work done.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think – ”
“Sir, I’m offering a vacation of a lifetime, two weeks in sunny Orlando, with additional trips to Daytona Beach and a cruise to the Bahamas.Β Now if you want to get in on this, all we need is your bank account number and the routing number for your bank…”
Wow… that traffic light actually works like the children’s game “one two three red light.”Β At least it does in blog posts.
Telemarketers have been a continuous and annoying occurrence at the Miller household.Β Most times I’ll ignore the call.Β Most times I’ll politely tell them I’m not interested.Β Most times I’ll remind them that they called me two days ago and I told them no thanks then.Β They’ve called me on Sunday morning.Β They’ve called me on Monday nights.Β They’ve bugged me in the middle of my photo processingΒ They’ve bugged me in the middle of my favorite TV shows.
In this blog post, I’m using pseudonyms for these companies, but they all operate with the same sun-and-fun sobriquet.Β August Cove.Β Sunshine Beach.Β Sunset Smile.Β Berkshire Breeze.Β Hudson Valley Happiness.Β Almost sounds like these companies get their names from brands of Yankee Candles, don’t they?
But see, this company crossed the line.Β They bothered me while I was still trying to get some money-generating work done.Β They interrupted my work time.
And for that… they must pay.
“You know what… why don’t you tell me all about your program,” I said, auto-saving my work on the computer.
I then waited as the salesman from August Cove Resorts began to ramble about what a great vacation opportunity that I and “Wicki” might enjoy, possibly a second honeymoon in Florida, all he needed was my bank account information and the deal could take place right now.
“Great, that sounds wonderful,” I replied half-heartedly.Β “Can you hold on for a second?”
“Sure,” the telemarketer replied.
I placed the telephone on my desk.Β I fired up my iTunes.Β Placing a computer speaker next to the telephone mouthpiece, I quickly ran down my list of playable tracks.
Oh this will work.Β I clicked the track.Β Within seconds, my computer speakers blasted Side 1 of Mike Oldfield’s “Tubular Bells.”Β All 25-plus minutes of it! Hey, they’re paying for the call… might as well entertain them with some music – some classic tracks to make their head spin like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
So as the classic prog-rock track echoed through my home office, I took a break, went in the kitchen, microwaved a TV dinner, had a nice meal, and as the “announcer” finished introducing all the instruments for the track’s side 1 finale, I cranked up the volume on the speakers just in case Mr. Telemarketer wanted to hear those clanging bells nice and loud.
As the song ended, I picked up the phone.
“Still there?’
The dulcet sound of a dial tone was the only response.
Chuck 1, August Cove Resorts nil.
But I know these guys will call back.Β And their concomitant buddies will call back as well.Β And they’ll ask for “Wicki Miller” again.Β Or maybe they’ll get her name right, I don’t know and I don’t care.
Here’s the deal, timeshare telemarketers.Β I don’t care about this “Do Not Call” list.Β Right now, it’s between vous et moi.
The first time your company calls me, I will ask for your contact information and request to be removed from your call list.
The second time you call me, I will remind you of the date you originally called, and my request to have you remove my number from your call list.
If you call a third time – I will consider that call a “billable hour” of my time, and will send a bill to your company for one hour of my professional time, at the special telemarketer-specific rate of $150/billable hour.Β And I expect it to be paid.Β And not in credits to your cockroach-infested, malodorous, hot-and-cold-running-taps-of-sludge, tin-roof-rusty shack that you call a resort.
Oh, and I add a $50 surcharge if you can’t get my wife’s first name correct.
Got it?Β Cause if you don’t get it by that point, I’m sure Attorney General Andrew Cuomo will explain it in clearer terms.
That, or my assistant in charge of long musical passages, Mike Oldfield.
The first indication that this was a bogus call was them asking for your bank account number. I would have cursed out the guy when he asked for that. Under no circumstances should you provide your bank account number for anyone — well except when you are at the bank and want to make a transaction.
But I did love the way you replied with the speakers and the iPod. Like you said Chuck 1, August Cove Resorts nil.
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What I used to do with the banks that called my store all the time was get their 800 number and call THEM whenever I had free time…it only takes a coupla calls until they lose their minds over it.
Or you could quit whining and get on the DO NOT CALL list already…
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Wow, I forgot all about telemarketers. All I get now are junk text messages, in Mongolian.
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i love the blaring music! i wonder how long the telemarketer stayed on the line…
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If I have time and feel like messing with them (telemarketers or supposed bill collectors) I will engage them in some polite conversation. Ask where they are calling from – no not the company name, the location. That sounds like a nice place – How is the weather there today? Is it like that a lot? It’s more fun when they are outsourced to India or someplace and I can ask about their hometowns. Of course they are constatntly trying to steer me away from my questions but I’ll persist in wasting their time. Then I tell them I really don’t have time right now because they interrupted my dinner. Could I please have your home phone number so I can call back at my convenience? Then cut them off as soon as I hear 1-800 – No, I mean YOUR HOME phone. Then I get the inevitable – this is an office sir. I know that but you have my home phone number and have no problem interrupting my life – I think you could at least have the respect to give me the same privilige. I’ll call back to discuss this matter when I can if you give me your number and take my file home with you. What time zone are you in? By then they are completely frustrated and I just politely tell them to take me off their list and hang up. Works all the time. You just have to be in the right mood to do it. Otherwise Caller ID works th best.
The other one is when you pick up the phone and there is the delay and the click, then “hello”. I just never answer. Sometimes I’ll hold up the phone near the TV so they know someone is there but they just keep saying hello until they finally give up.
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Next tie try it with Oldfield’s Amarok – One track, sixty minutes.
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I have blocked the call from telemarketers. I wish all telemarketers would just go away!
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