An actual conversation I just had with an outfit that regularly calls Kathleen (during dinner time, of course) looking to have her donate money:
CALLER: Is Kathleen David there?
ME: No, she’s not.
CALLER: When would be a better time to reach her?
ME: When she’s here.
(Confused silence. Then…)
CALLER: Thank you.
ME: No problem.
PAD
• 
I sound very young on the phone also.
Generally, I attempt to be polite before hanging up the phone, but when someone immediately asks for my Mommy, I figure it is time to have some fun.
I would reply with one of the following, depending on how playful I was feeling:
– Then why did you call me?
– She’s in the bedroom with the (pick your favorite – Dad, the mailman, her best friend, etc), and I am not allowed to disturb them right now…
– She said that if you idiots called again, I should hang up, so BYE!
Regarding religious solicitors: A friend of mine had a great schtick that he pulled on some Christian protestors who would regularly hold anti-abortion rallies in front of a Planned Parenthood office. Now, just to set the stage, these were some hardcore Christians, carrying around life-size wooden crosses and some of them handing out Jack Chick tracts. So imagine 20 or so of them at this rally, where my friend and one of his friends show up in full Satanic garb– wearing KISS makeup, dressed in black, with upside down crosses and pentagrams and everything– with signs saying “SATAN wants your BABIES!!!”. As they go to get in the protest line in front of the building, some of the Christian protestors stopped them, demanding what they were doing. My friend patiently explained that he wanted to join the protest, because his lord and master Satan told him that he had to save babies from being aborted so that Satan would have an even chance to subvert their lives and thus increase the ranks of Hëll. So, on the face of it, they were all on the same side, and could they please join the rally?
Needless to say, much anger and vituperation occured, and it nearly came to blows, but one of the Sheriff’s Deputies present acknowledged my friend’s claim that he had just as much right to protest according to the views of his ‘religion,’ suggesting that it’d be best for all if they held a seperate protest kind of off to the side of the main one. So they went off to the side and had their own seperate rally for about half an hour, until bored and a little worried about their personal safety, they left.
I just wish he’d taken pictures.
PAD, someone really needs to follow you around with a camera and do a reality show. I vote for “The Write Stuff”.
I’ve had some telemarketers from Michigan calling me about every five weeks to tell me I’ve won a car, if I’ll only answer a few questions and show up half a county away the next day. After the third time they called, having finally explained why I didn’t ACTUALLY win anything the first two times, I have not let them finish their spiel. I wish I knew enough about the law to know if I could force them to give me a car – The first two times they called they explained that I had to be married in order to win, which sounds pretty questionable.
I haven’t made any snappy comebacks beyond telling them I know who they are and what they’re up to.
PAD’s last comment above was great: I take back at least 75% of the bad things I’ve thought about him. I appreciate the joy of messing with small-minded proselytisers, but don’t usually get around to it. 30 years ago when I was in college I went on a canoe trip with some idiots from my former church, and had to listen to several hours of their questioning about my going to a “non-Christian, pagan, even” university. That was Georgetown University, just 13 miles away from where we were speaking. I’m not Catholic, but it was incredibly dense not to know Catholics are very sufficiently “Christian.” I tried to explain myself and got a lot of “Yeah! They’re CATHOLICS!! Don’t you feel weird being around pagans? Ooooh…” It turned out that the assistant pastor had put them up to it, and I’ve gone to a different church ever since.
Speaking of Pagans, I have a few friends that are Pagan. In our neighborhood we used to get Jehovah’s Witnesses knocking on the door all the time. I always wanted to have them over when the doorbell rang and have them answer in all their Gothed-out glory. Closest I ever came was answering the door with broadsword in hand when my wife and I first moved in together. I opened the door, guy starts his spiel. In my best Kurganesque voice, “I’m busy.” SLAM. I laughed for two hours over that one.
Rick – I borrowed a tactic from a bright, cultured lady I know in Osaka. Though Japanese, her English is perfect (probably in part from grabbing a Psych Masters in the US 30-odd years back) and has taken to answering the phone with an English comment. Her friends know it’s her, but telemarketers and other pests figure they’ve gotten some foreigner, so no point wasting time and hang up. I do the same, but in Japanese. So far it’s worked well.
As for phone-follies, this isn’t about telemarketers, but …
I used to have a cheap phone I’d bought in the late 70s which had the capability to ‘send’ a tinny electronic tune (you could choose from two available) to the other end of the line. I got in the habit of doing so when someone put me on hold, slapping on the muzak as they did so. I’d reciprocate and wait until I’d hear a confused “hello?” after they’d returned and then cut out the music and excused myself. “It’s just that, since you seemed to feel a need to inflict that awful stuff on me, the least I could do is return the favour.” It seemed to annoy people but I can’t honestly say I lost much sleep over it.
Until I got on the “Do Not Call” List, this is what I used to do:
Idiot solicitor: “Is Mr. So & So there?”
Me: “Hold on a sec, I’ll go get him.”
Me: {{putting phone down and walking away}}
About 10 minutes later, I’d check. MOST would have hung up by then, otherwise I’d say, “Hold on, still trying to find him.” And I’d put the phone down again.
After a good 20 minutes, they’re gone.
What killed me is that I was still doing things around the house, like watching TV or working inthe kitchen. And you KNOW they could hear it.
Peter David: I found his lack of faith disturbing.
Luigi Novi: Did he keel over clutching his throat? 🙂
Oh, and Luigi? I’ll never call you.
Ever.
In the days before caller ID, when my dad got fed up with the phone constantly ringing, he would answer ” (Town) Nuthouse, Chief Nut speaking,” which worked great until the time his boss called…
I’ve done that a few times, but now I find it a lot safer to answer in a foreign language. If they happen to know it, I switch to another. Ends things right quick.
My dad always used to answer the phone, “5th Precinct.” Still does sometimes, actually.
TWL
Sean: Oh, and Luigi? I’ll never call you. Ever.
Luigi Novi: Okay.
Btw, what are you wearing?
🙂
The one time I really feel the need to mess with people is when the Fraternal Order of Police call. Every 3 months or so, they call asking for a donation.
So I let them go through whatever crap they go through, and then they say (not even ask)that I am sending them 25$ and I will get a sticker in the mail, I say:
Does my $25 entitle me to have the police answer my house alarm panic button in under two hours?
Does it ensure that the police will not tailgate me in a non-emergency situation?
Will they not flash me their lights just because they have an urgent need for a donut?
Amazingly, 3 months they will still call back…
My dad is in his late 70’s. When a telemarketer call him he goes on a rant about how he only get’s an erection once a month and ends it with “Guess what day this is…” Meanwhile his girlfriend is in the background telling him to come back to bed.
On a TOTALLY unrelated topic, I had a dream last night that PAD had a get together for all of us from the blog.
A couple of people were arguing and there was PAD in his recliner just shaking his head. Somehow I was relegated to serving drinks and making duplicate keys (I don’t know, it was a dream) while waiting for Luigi to show up and deconstruct both arguments, thus showing that they were both wrong.
PAD, you don’t strike me as the kind of guy to have pastel blue carpet and a pink Lay-Z-Boy.
Dream On,
M
At my old comic shop, we’d get calls asking for the owner. We used the name Wally Carbo, an old AWA Wrestling promoter. Naturally, he was never there.
Only one time did the caller pause and call us on our bluff. In a bemused voice, he asked, “Isn’t he dead?”. We confessed our ruse, and he hung up laughing.
Posted by: Susan O
In the days before caller ID, when my dad got fed up with the phone constantly ringing, he would answer ” (Town) Nuthouse, Chief Nut speaking,” which worked great until the time his boss called…
When i was in the Navy and stationed in Italy (1971), one of the senior P.O.s was alone in the shop, and the phone rang; for reasons known only to God and himself and i suspect that the Creator wasn’t really positive), he answered it “Ernie’s Hardware. Ernie speakin'”
(pause)
VOICE: Do you know who this is?
P.O.: No.
VOICE: This is the Captain.
P.O. (as later recounted, at least): Do you know who this is?
Voice: No.
P.O.: Good (click)
And he dashed out the door, passing me on the way.
He said “If that phone rings, you just came in, you didn’t answer it before, no-one was here when you came in, and you don’t know who was here before you came in. I’m going to the transmitter shack.”
Hmmm, thinks i.
Phone rings.
“Good afternoon – Ground Electronics, NAS Sigonella. ETN2 Weber speaking – how may i help you, sir?”
VOICE: Who answered this phone last?
ME: I’m sorry, sir, i have no idea…”
Posted by: michael j
The one time I really feel the need to mess with people is when the Fraternal Order of Police call. Every 3 months or so, they call asking for a donation.
As i said in a p[revious comment, i’d be surprised if the actual FoP got even as much as ten cents on the dollar on contributions made through those calls…
Closest I ever came was answering the door with broadsword in hand when my wife and I first moved in together. I opened the door, guy starts his spiel. In my best Kurganesque voice, “I’m busy.” SLAM. I laughed for two hours over that one.
I heard of a guy who saw a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses approaching his house and greeted them by stripping naked, grabbing an ornamental sword off the wall and answering the door bellowing “DO YOU MIND? I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF A RITUAL!”
Oh, and by the way? Few things get a charity telemarketer off the line faster than the phrase “I’m collecting unemployment right now.” Trust me on this one.
Mitch Evans: On a TOTALLY unrelated topic, I had a dream last night that PAD had a get together for all of us from the blog. A couple of people were arguing and there was PAD in his recliner just shaking his head. Somehow I was relegated to serving drinks and making duplicate keys (I don’t know, it was a dream) while waiting for Luigi to show up and deconstruct both arguments, thus showing that they were both wrong.
Luigi Novi: Interesting somnic architecture you have there, Mitch. 🙂
Going back to “Doc Hazard” for a minute, Lisa read this thread last night. Her response (and I quote):
“Minions? Well, I have grad students — does that count?”
I figure grad students past and present can speak up on that one. 🙂
TWL
1 Two things ,one i have done one i just haven’t had the nerve to do yet. Once a marketer called and asked if Mr. Miller was there,since at that time my father was still alive I answer this is a Mr. Miller,well what the marketer heard was this is Amos Miller. I still get calls asking for Amos MIller. the other thing is sometimes we get calls from marketers with Indian accents so thick they are barely understandable,I so political incorrect want to answer them in my best Indian accent,so far i haven’t had the nerve.
Luigi:
“Luigi Novi: Interesting somnic architecture you have there, Mitch. :-)”
Even though I caught the meaning from it’s context, I had to look up somnic. Which was not in my dictionary. Then I went to dictionary.com and the closest I got was somni. Above the first definition was an ad for “Novi Sleep & Lung Doctors.”
Weird.
Interesting may be too small a word to describe my somnic architecture. When falling from a great height I don’t wake up before I hit the ground. I’ve also been shot, stabbed, and burned to the point of melting flesh before waking up.
To balance that out I also frequently wake up laughing my ášš off, but can never remember what was so dámņ funny. Again, weird.
Tim,
Somehow I have the notion that a ‘Doc Hazard’ wouldn’t need minions as much as steady hands…
To the Batpoles!
M
Every so often, when the phone rings at home, I’ll answer “Chris’ crematorium. You kill ’em, we grill ’em.”
Unfortunately, have not gotten a telemarketer with that one yet. Mostly just friends who are used to me.
“I’ve also been shot, stabbed, and burned to the point of melting flesh before waking up.”
To quote Dr. Venkman, OUCH.
“”Chris’ crematorium. You kill ’em, we grill ’em.””
Well, actually, I do feel a bit peckish….
I so political incorrect want to answer them in my best Indian accent,so far i haven’t had the nerve.
When my wife and I still lived in Iowa and before we got married, she would occasionally get calls in Spanish. While her maiden name is directly from her Filipino heritage, it is also a common Hispanic last name.
I was very tempted to answer the phone myself and demand that they start calling me in German. 🙂
Worst job I ever had was as a telephone survey taker. I only lasted a couple months at that job. To their credit, the company understood how stressful the job was and had an insane amount of perks for their full-timers — like a company-wide 2 week all expenses paid vacation to London. (I was a part-timer, and a temp, so I wasn’t eligible.)
Ever since I’ve had that job, I’ve had the occasional irrational fear of talking to people for fear of wasting their time…
On the upside, though, I learned several creative metaphors for various things.
“And why do you dislike (one particular vendor), sir?”
“Because they can ruin an anvil in a sandpit with a rubber mallet.”
“As i said in a p[revious comment, i’d be surprised if the actual FoP got even as much as ten cents on the dollar on contributions made through those calls…”
My mother told me a while back she heard on the news how this was a scam. She used to donate to them when they called, but stopped a few years back. My friend happens to be a police officer also (and yes, he knows the awful things I say about them) 🙂 and also told me not to bother donating, as it means nothing to the police…
Michael
PAD, just out of curiosity, what would your response have been if they had asked what time she would be available?
PAD, just out of curiosity, what would your response have been if they had asked what time she would be available?
Eastern Standard time.
PAD
> Worst job I ever had was as a telephone survey taker … Ever since I’ve had that job, I’ve had the occasional irrational fear of talking to people for fear of wasting their time…
I worked for such a firm, albeit one of the more reputable ones in the area. They’d only sic me on people who had previously agreed to be part of such a survey and then gave us ‘best times’ at which to call them. So getting nasty a nasty reception at the other end wasn’t generally a problem. But I do recall all too vividly one survey …
The numbers I’d been assigned were all in a part of town which I knew to be heavily made up of retirees. And a lot of them, instead of being annoyed at being disturbed, almost seemed to welcome the call. Many, the tone of their voices seemed to be “oh, thank God, a human voice to talk to” and it near to broke my heart thinking of how lonely these people must be, day in and day out, that a complete stranger calling to ask nosy questions would be such a desirable change.
Some years back, there was a big hassle over the city of Chamblee Georgia cracking down on the crowds of casual workers waiting outside a day-labour exchange office. (There had been numerous complaints from residents and other business in the neighbourhood about public drinking, vandalism/property damage, harassment of passersby, etc.)
A lot of the would-be workers were Hispanic, anmd the whole hassle was pretty quickly framed as anti-Hispanic prejudice by The Usual Loudmouths.
People began calling Chamblee City Hall to protest this “racist” behaviour, and some of them, apprantly, got a tad abusive.
An acquaintance (fellow member of an Amateur Press Alliance) at the time was the Adminsitrative Assistant at Chamblee City Hall.
Meaning that, among other duties she had to answer the phone.
While she had lived almost her entire life in the Atlanta area, she is a Cuban exile, her family having been one of the last out bringing her as an infant.
So, of course, she speaks perfect Georgia English.
And here she was catching hëll for being an anti-Hispanic bigot (since, after all, anyone who works for City Hall must, of neessity, be an enthusiastic supporter of the City Administration’s policies).
(She said, BTW, that from her vantage point, the crackdown seemed to be more anti-riffraff than specifically anti-Hispanic; it just happened that this particular riffraff skewed Hispanic. Apparently there had been other such crackdowns, but, since they mostly affected white, non-Hispanic riffraff, no-one had gotten incensed over them.)
She said that she sometimes considered putting on her best Googie Gomez routine (and it was *really* good) once she determined what the call was about…
Them: Hello is Brian Kirk there, please?
Me: Yes, hold on.
Me: Hello?
Them: Hello, Brian Kirk?
Me: Wait, I’ll get him for you.
Me: Hello?
Them: Hello, Mr. …Brian Kirk?
Me: No, please hold.
Me: Hello?
Them: *click*
eh…that’s all I got.
Oh – i forgot to mention that my friend was the *only* Hispanic in the Chamblee City Hall…
One of my favorites (not specifically for solicitors, but easily used on them) comes from the movie RUTHLESS PEOPLE. Danny DeVito’s character Sam Stone is talking with someone, the phone rings, and DeVito answers it:
Hello? Debbie? Yeah, Debbie’s here, who’s this? Well, Ralph, uh, Debbie can’t talk right now, my dìçk’s in her mouth. How about if I have her call you back later when I’m done?
[hangs up and laughs]
Sam Stone: I love wrong numbers.
“…Tele-Marketer Scum…”
“…the salesdrone…”
“…you idiots…”
In 2001, I was fired from a dead-end job I’d held for six years. The skills I’d developed weren’t easily transferable, and I’d been fired for poor performance to boot. I had negligible savings and a mountain of debt related to some chronic health problems. I had mismanaged my career and my prospects weren’t good.
Yeah. I was in a world of hurt.
The highest-paying jobs I could find on short notice were two residential telemarketing gigs, one part-time and one full-time. I didn’t love the idea of becoming a telemarketer, but it was that or defaulting on my debts. In my view, there was really no choice at all.
Keeping some shred of pride intact wasn’t easy. The kind of abuse you all brag about heaping on telemarketers certainly got under my skin despite my best efforts. There were days when I believed I deserved it.
But I kept some level of dignity by refusing to cross certain ethical lines. As a result, I was never a “star performer” but my numbers were consistently satisfactory, and management learned to stay off my back.
Also, I learned much to my surprise that I am good at sales. Never thought that would be the case, because I don’t have a “killer instinct,” and I wouldn’t know how to manipulate someone even if I wanted to. But being a *good* salesman isn’t about manipulation and pressure tactics. It’s about listening to the customer and meeting their needs — or having the integrity to admit to them when you can’t.
After a few months, I found a full-time job as a business-to-business telemarketer at a Fortune 500 technology company. I’ve since been able to shed the second job, and after multiple promotions I am now being groomed for an account executive position (in other words, a full-blown sales role). I am currently working on multi-million dollar deals at one of our top ten accounts: a multi-billion dollar global financial services firm.
My income has nearly doubled in the last six years, and if things go well I may increase my income by another 20 percent in 2008. I have the respect of my colleagues, my manager, and some very influential and high-ranking people elsewhere in the company. Most important: my job is challenging, intrinsically worthwhile, and fun!
It’s more than a 40-hour-a-week gig, but nevertheless it’s only one job instead of two. So I now have time to devote to a lifelong dream of writing, drawing, and publishing my own comic. It doesn’t hurt that I have the money now to buy nice art supplies, to pay for Web site hosting fees, and eventually, to print the book.
I am not one for hubris. In this crappy economy, I could get smacked back down in a second. But I’ve clawed my way back up from the gutter once, and I know I could do it again if I had to.
Gee, can you imagine what I might have done with my life if I wasn’t such a “salesdrone idiot scum”? It almost makes you believe you can’t judge a person based on a superficial 30-second interaction over the telephone.
“It’s about listening to the customer and meeting their needs — or having the integrity to admit to them when you can’t.”
Personally, I’ve always subscribed to Kris Kringle’s philosophy: If Macy’s doesn’t have it, send them to Gimbels. When I worked in bookstores, if we didn’t have a particular book and the customer didn’t have either the time or the inclination to special order it, I’d either suggest he or she try one of the other bookstores in the area (either used or new); or point him or her to a specific one if I knew it carried the book in question. While you do lose that particular sale, I believe that customer is likely to come back again.
Not related to telemarketing per se, but I’m just saying.
Rick
Rick — When you get a chance, e-mail me. Need to ask you something. (I’m afraid I lost your e-mail address.)
Rick Keating: “If a telemarketer asks for ‘Mr. Keating’ or for me by name, I never confirm my identity. I ask who’s calling. Only if it’s someone I want to talk to will I state that yes, it’s me. Otherwise, let them think I’m the butler.”
You have every right to decide what calls you will or won’t take. When I was a residential telemarketer, we were taught sneaky (although not necessarily clever) techniques for getting past people’s defenses but I refused to employ them. When you make an unsolicited call into someone’s home, you’re being intrusive enough as it is.
Believe it or not, I’ve had people swear to me that they had never signed up for *anything* via a telemarketer before getting a call from me — and that if more telemarketers displayed my level of professionalism, they might not have hung up on so many of ’em.
That said, I don’t miss my telemarketing days. I took the job out of desperation, and I hope if I manage my career well going forward I won’t have to make any more desperation moves.
By the way, picking on telemarketers and feeling good about it is like beating up a four-year-old and thinking you’re bad-ášš. Telemarketeting calls are generally monitored or recorded by management, and most telemarketers (yes, yes, there are always exceptions, but I’m talking about the majority pattern here) aren’t *allowed* to do anything other than pretend you’re as clever as you mistakenly believe yourself to be when you play your little games.
You all think you’re badass? Before I became a telemarketer, I was nastier than any of you could’ve been in your wildest dreams. To wit: 15 years ago I got a call from a local dance school offering me three free dance lessons. In a depressed monotone, I told the woman on the other end of the phone that I had lost both of my legs in “the war.”
“You really lost both of your legs in a war?” she asked with a slight tremor in her voice.
“Yes,” I said, maintaining my depressed-sounding monotone.
“I’m so sorry for bothering you about this, sir,” she said, and we concluded the call.
I know I upset that woman, and like many of you, I was proud of it. Yeah, I patted myself on the back for that one for years. Then I became a telemarketer myself. Karma’s a bìŧçh, innit?
Anyway, fast-forward to just a few years ago, after I made it back from Telemarketing Hëll. I got a call from the very same dance school making the very same offer. This time, I accepted. My girlfriend and I took the free dance lessons and enjoyed them so much we decided to pay for more. It was a great experience.
There’s a lesson to be learned in that for anyone open to life’s lessons.
When I’m not having fun with people getting names confused, Bill, I do give a more serious response, namely that “my wife and I have a standard agreement not to buy things over the phone. If you can send us the information in writing so that we can look over it without being rushed, we’ll certainly do that.”
Those companies that oblige, we’ll consider. Those who insist that they can’t send something in writing without a commitment on my part … fûçk ’em.
It’s a very effective way to keep the calls from being a huge bother, because there’s really no way to challenge it. Those who try quickly hear me hang up the phone.
TWL
Tim Lynch: “Those who insist that they can’t send something in writing without a commitment on my part … fûçk ’em.”
No. Fûçk their bosses. Or, more likely, their bosses’ bosses’ bosses.
The people with whom you’re having “fun” are trying to do the best they can to succeed at a crappy job with crappy requirements and demands because, heaven forbid, they need to work. A few decades ago, anyone with a work ethic could find decent jobs in the manufacturing sector. Hëll, in 1992 I took a manufacturing job right out of college and was earning $13/hour plus full benefits (and remember, adjusting for inflation, $13/hour was dámņ good pay in ’92). But most of the un-skilled and low-skilled manufacturing jobs have been “off-shored” to “low-cost nations.”
Not everyone is suited for sales, accounting, human resources, management, IT, entertainment, or other jobs we consider “professions.” Some people are suited for, God forbid, DOING SOMETHING that results in a TANGIBLE PRODUCT OR SERVICE. Unfortunately, there just ain’t the kinds of jobs for those people that there once were. Many of them end up in the “service” sector, and many others end up as telemarketers. Some of those people, like me, get lucky enough to reach escape velocity and break free. I cannot bring myself to look down at those who aren’t so lucky.
That is the unpleasant reality beneath your “fun.”
Addendum: I realize that your tongue-fu with respect to yours and your wife’s names isn’t harming anyone. And again, *everyone* has a right to control the flow of communications into their homes, whether those are coming in via phone, e-mail, or carrier pigeon. But just bear in mind that the “salesdrones” aren’t calling the shots.
I can’t bring myself to have any fun with telemarketers for much the same reason Bill Myers says–been there, done that. I HATED the job. But it paid and as someone mentioned, the perks could be sweet. Lifting that phone was like lifting weights by the time I finally quit.
On the other hand, I can laugh at these cruel jokes because, well, comedy is usually cruel. And it’s smarter than insulting other low income workers like waitresses, unless you like special sauces in your soup.
Bill,
The “fûçk ’em” was really aimed at the parent body, not at the marketer him or herself. I try not to be incredibly rude to the marketers, but when I’ve made it plain that they will not be able to close a sale over the phone and they try anyway, I hang up. That’s simply the economics of time.
And I totally agree that not everyone is suited for sales. I’m one of ’em: while I never worked in sales per se, I tried going door-to-door one summer as part of a public interest group. I didn’t last a week.
I totally understand that the callers are just trying to do a job, and I don’t get abusive with them (as a rule; I’m human). Even the “fun” that you somewhat derisively mocked is in the service of getting them to move on quickly — there are plenty of tactics that are in the “delay them for as long as possible” category that I don’t do.
I understand your point, Bill, I really do. But I also think that you’re overreacting a bit here to what is clearly a very human (and, on the whole, harmless) response.
What’s next, a moratorium on lawyer jokes?
TWL
>b>Posted by: Bill Mulligan
And it’s smarter than insulting other low income workers like waitresses, unless you like special sauces in your soup.
Tom Paxton, closing a show at Banks & Shane’s in Atlanta, about 1988: “…a special song, entitled ‘Be Sure to Remember Your Waitress (or Be Sure *She’ll* Remember *You*)…’.”
Gee, can you imagine what I might have done with my life if I wasn’t such a “salesdrone idiot scum”?
Bill, I’ve done the job myself for a couple of months, and having seen it from the other side, and being fairly good at it, I still want to throttle telemarketers.
Although, having a cell and being on the no call list, we don’t get many such calls these days.
But the same spiel comes now from anybody you call about anything – I was forced to call Dish Network last night to drop HBO and Cinemax (got 3 months free) – they don’t allow you to drop programming through their website. (Gee, I wonder why that is…)
I really didn’t want to talk to somebody who was going to try and sell me on why I should keep the channels. Thankfully, the process ended up being automated… simply hit some buttons.
But the fact that I believed I was going to have to listen to a sales pitch angered me.
And I did a temp job for awhile after moving here to Denver. They offered me a permanent position that would basically be cold-calling people to sell them stuff… essentially a telemarketing job. I refused; I wasn’t about to do it again, even though it would’ve been a permanent job.
So, even though I’ve done the job for a short time, I still can’t feel sorry for the people doing it.
Tim Lynch: “…but when I’ve made it plain that they will not be able to close a sale over the phone and they try anyway, I hang up. That’s simply the economics of time.”
I never said you had to roll out the red carpet for them, Tim. When I said in an earlier post that you have every right to decide what calls you will or won’t take, I thought that was pretty clear.
Tim Lynch: “And I totally agree that not everyone is suited for sales…”
My point was broader than that. Time was, people who don’t have the skills to be an accountant, or an executive, or a chef, or an electrical engineer, or whatever could still make a good living at a variety of jobs. Now? Not so much.
Tim Lynch: “Even the ‘fun’ that you somewhat derisively mocked is in the service of getting them to move on quickly…”
I’m not saying it’s not OK to have some fun. But I make no apologies for being pìššëd øff at having people label those who do this kind of work as “tele-marketer scum,” “idiots,” or “salesdrones.” I also make no apologies for making the very valid point that you can’t judge someone based on a 30-second telephone interaction.
Tim Lynch: “What’s next, a moratorium on lawyer jokes?”
This from someone who admonished another poster for using the term “pussy” to mean “wimp?” It’s not an all-or-nothing proposition.
Besides, the people who know me are going to be very surprised to learn that I don’t like jokes. The one good thing most people say about me is that I have a great sense of humor. And here it turns out I don’t have one.
Look, I don’t want to go around in circles about this. I wouldn’t have even commented in this thread, had people not begun bandying about insults like “salesdrone.” So here’s the bottom line and my final word on this: during my telemarketing days, if I had called Peter David and received a response like the one he’d described, I’d’ve gotten a silent chuckle out of it and moved on. But call me a “salesdrone,” an “idiot,” or “scum,” and you reap the whirlwhind.
This from someone who admonished another poster for using the term “pussy” to mean “wimp?”
Bit of a difference there, Bill. The above case insults one person by indirectly insulting an entire class of people unrelated to whoever’s drawn your ire. “Salesdrone”, or even “scum”, is not doing that.
I wouldn’t have even commented in this thread, had people not begun bandying about insults like “salesdrone.”
Fair enough — but as the person who (I think) introduced that particular term to the thread, I’d like to clarify it.
You yourself pointed out that telemarketers have very little leeway about what they can and can’t say (as in the “no, fûçk their bosses’ bosses’ bosses” comment). As such, they’re essentially bound by job requirements to be little more than mouthpieces and script-readers. In that context, “salesdrone” is not insulting — it is, in describing their required professional demeanor, ACCURATE. Some manage to be a lot more creative and heartfelt about it than others (and it sounds like you were one of those). Many don’t — but as a job description, it’s reasonably close to correct in all cases.
I agree that “idiot” and “scum” would be highly insulting, and I don’t believe I’ve ever used either in regards to the people in question. However, I think in reading “salesdrone,” you’re ascribing malice that either isn’t there at all or is there in far less abundance than you’d thought.
I agree that it’s not worth going around in circles on this — are we in “agree to disagree” territory at this point?
TWL
Worst job I ever had was a caller for the university Annual Fund. It was more tedious than anything else, and I think in a few weeks, I managed to get one pledge of $50-100, or something like that.
We’d have to start asking for $1000, no matter what the person says their circumstances were.
The only time I got a bit upset was when I had only identified who I was, and the person on the other end threatened me.
That seemed a bit uncalled for.
Anyway, when telemarketers call, generally the worst I’ll do is tell them that I can’t talk and have to go, and if they keep talking, I hang up.
If they’re from the Annual Fund, I’m actually fairly polite in my refusal and wish them luck.
Bill,
I can understand your not liking people taking the piss out of telemarketers due to your past employment in the field, but there are many in that field who are deserving of such treatment. You’ve stated that you tried to be somewhat honorable in how you handled yourself when making those calls. I’ve gotten a hëll of a lot of calls from telemarketers where the caller was an absolute šhìŧ.
If you don’t know me and you’re calling my house for the first time; my name is Mr. Chandler and my wife’s is Mrs. Chandler. Neither I nor Jenn like getting a call where someone asks in a friendly and overly familiar manner if “Jerry” or “Jennifer” is home so that it first seems like you’ve just answered the phone and it’s a friend of your spouse on the line. I got really pissy one time shortly after Jenn first moved in and changed over all of her stuff to my address. I answered the phone and a woman is asking me if “Jenn” is there. I figured it was a friend of hers or one of her sisters. Turned out that it was some twit selling something useless. Don’t use first names, especially don’t use shortened versions of those names and do tell me at the start of the call who you are and who you represent. I’m far less likely to curse you out that way.
Now, if you do address me by my last name, tell me who you represent and tell me what your selling in the opening of the call, I might hear you out if I have the time. That being said, don’t refuse to take no for an answer. If I say that I have no need for brand new storm windows because we’ve just had Champion put new windows on the house less the three months ago, don’t tell me that I need to hear why your windows are so much better then theirs. I’m still paying for the Champion windows and I’m not about to have them removed to put yours in and create a second monthly payment. And yes, that was a call I took a few weeks ago.
If I say I’m not interested in your product, then simply accept that as a fact and say good-bye. Don’t, as so many seem to love to do, talk over me or keep telling me that I have to listen to you or your sales pitch.
99.9% of the telemarketers that call my house do all of the above in the absolute wrong manner. For that .1% that doesn’t, I feel sorry for them getting the brunt of the richly deserved cruelty caused by the rest, but the tactics and manners of the majority of the telemarketers out there basically bring it on themselves.
That being said, I have no funny stories of my own. I just hang up on them or, if they really pull something to cheese me off, tell them where to stick their product before hanging up on them.