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
• 
Tim Lynch: “I agree that it’s not worth going around in circles on this — are we in ‘agree to disagree’ territory at this point?”
When I said my last post was my “final word” on the subject, that’s exactly what I meant. You’ll not see any more posts from me in this thread.
I simply tell the persistent telemarketer they’re not respecting my boundaries, and then they say maybe if they had my experiences, they’d be full of hate just like me.
I used to make calls for a market research company for about a year in college, which put me about a step above telemarketers IMO, but it was still a pretty soul-deadening job. I quit when my dread at going to work was too much to take, and I only worked part-time!
Anyway, the most interesting part of my day was when someone would be a wiseass and take the piss out of me. I’m not talking angry, any idiot can be angry and getting cussed at is just irritating. I mean actual witty cleverness.
It gives you something to laugh about in the break room and it’s amusing to think that someone would go to so much trouble to get you to leave them alone when it’s so much simpler to hang up on you. But I appreciated it.
I really oughtta learn not to declare “final word” until I’m really ready for the “final word.” But I fear I’ve written too much and given too much fodder for those who like to drown in details, and some who believe they understand me truly don’t. So, to clear things up…
To Tim Lynch: You never said “scum” or “idiot,” but others did. My posts weren’t addressed exclusively to you. Sorry I wasn’t more clear.
To everyone: I never said you have an obligation to talk to telemarketers, because you don’t. I never said you had an obligation to be all sweetness and nice with telemarketers, because you don’t. And I never said I objected to having fun, because I don’t.
If, however, you cross the line into real cruelty don’t pat yourself on the back. And if you think you can judge someone as a “scum” or an “idiot” based on a superficial interaction, I fear those pejoratives may apply to you as much as to anyone else.
Now that truly is my final word, because this is as clear as I can be.
I was just about through congratulating myself for not jumping on that “final word” issue, and now Bill Myers has spoken again. He has every right to prefer that people treat telemarketers with respect, but none to demand it of others. Other than sometimes abruptly hanging up on them, I don’t tend to abuse telemarketers – but I won’t criticize those who do. Unsolicited calls are intrusions we have no obligation to accept calmly.
This is not really specifically addressed to Bill Myers, but this instance will do. The argument “I used to do X, so X is right and proper” is no argument at all.
Bill Myers: I’ve sent you an E-Mail, as requested.
Rick
Ahem.
It seems I had a minor meltdown. How embarrassing.
I was a telemarketer for two years. And it wasn’t just the people I called who dumped on me. Sometimes at parties someone would learn what I did for a living go on and on about how much they hated telemarketers. And *they* would be mortally offended if I shut them down and walked away. God forbid I should be able to escape my misery for even a few moments.
Worst of all were the many people who believed I’d never amount to anything. Like the employer that fired me in 2001 because I couldn’t do 80 hours a week worth of work for less money than I could’ve made waiting tables. Like the managers at the call centers where I worked who rewarded dishonest caller after dishonest caller with permanent jobs while allowing me to languish as a temp because, God forbid, I was content to settle for results I could come by honestly.
So, was I a bit hyper-sensitive to people tossing about insults like “telemarketer scum”? Perhaps. Having vented, however, I’ve realized that I needn’t be offended. Even if someone posting here truly believes me to be “scum” because of the job I once held, I have the respect of the people who truly matter in my life.
By the way, none of you get the prize for “Best Response to a Telemarketer.” That prize goes to a woman who would shut down telemarketers selling long-distance plans by telling them she didn’t have a telephone.
This is not really specifically addressed to Bill Myers, but this instance will do. The argument “I used to do X, so X is right and proper” is no argument at all.
I don’t think anyone is making that argument though.
I do think it’s hard to argue that treating people with dignity makes one classy. You can say, well, what if they don’t deserve it? Actually, that’s when you really look classy (I’m reminded of Richard Pryor’s hysterical routine where the man is getting angrier and angrier while the woman replies back with quiet dignity, which makes him even angrier).
Again, I find a lot of this funny, in the cruel way that funny often is. (Ever hear some of the prank phone calls the Howard Stern crew pull on telemarketers? Pretty funny stuff). But really, all you have to do is hang up. You don’t even have to wait for them to pause. The most annoying thing about telemarketers is the sound of the dámņ phone going off, which bitter experience has instlled in me the automatic reaction of “What fresh hëll is this?” Once I realize that it isn’t bad news from the family front it’s always a simple matter to conclude the call.
>No. Fûçk their bosses. Or, more likely, their bosses’ bosses’ bosses.
Too right. A couple of friends were quite releived to escape their jobs as telephone support staff (one for Dell, the other for a Canadian Internet company), not because of the work – they enjoyed helping people sove their problems – but because of the conditions under which some suits in another city or even country made them do it. e.g. “You’ll ‘help’ them by doing your utmost to sell them some other, unrelated service they don’t want or need, and your performance will be evaluated by how often you manage to do this.” Feh.
> And I totally agree that not everyone is suited for sales…
It might help if they remembered a very important piece of advice my late father – who’d been quite successful in sales in his earlier days – had given me: “You don’t sell someone something, you help them buy.”
Bill Mulligan: “The most annoying thing about telemarketers is the sound of the dámņ phone going off, which bitter experience has instlled in me the automatic reaction of ‘What fresh hëll is this?'”
Now that I have your home phone number, Mulligan, you’ll be asking that more often, I’ll warrant. 😛
You’ve just spelled out how the telemarketing industry rewards the aggression those you chastised were complaining about. In spite of your protest, by your own account, that aggression is there. It’s a wonder you hold onto any fidelity to a system you feel free to portray as dysfunctional.
Now that I have your home phone number, Mulligan, you’ll be asking that more often, I’ll warrant. 😛
Wait until I tell you about the one I got last night…pretty much the last thing you need to hear the day before you do the final walk through on the house you are closing on Monday…
(Those of you passing through Sanford NC, just look for the house that has an electrical system apparently designed and built by Nikola Tesla.)
“Wait until I tell you about the one I got last night…pretty much the last thing you need to hear the day before you do the final walk through on the house you are closing on Monday…”
What? I figured you’d LOVE learning that you’re about to be living in the house that Crazy Larry The Ax Murderer killed all his victims in.
I jumped on this because it reminded me of a situation here a while back. PAD was irate that Orson Scott Card was dismissive of Star Trek. His argument was essentially that he had met both of his wives at Trek conventions, four daughters had resulted, and he liked Star Trek quite a bit, dammit – even though he admitted much of Star Trek was average, unexceptional stuff (although I would not have admitted anything of the kind). For one reason or another, PAD’s argument was very convincing on this site, but I did not find it so. Bill Myers’s continued posts make it clear he isn’t really demanding more from us than a little bit of perspective – and that seems entirely right.
Now if we could only do something about email spam.
Queen Anthai’s post is right on the money, but there is more. Get the telemarketer’s info – employee i.d. and business being represented – and say, “Don’t ever call here again.” If they do, you can sue for cash – harassment.
PAD’s account of the evangelist at the Port Authority (most folks think P.A. is just the downtown station, but there is one at GW Bridge, too) reminded me of the much more entertaining scene in “Miami Blues.” Yes, he killed the Hari Krishna guy, but it was fiction, and it was funny. As for PAD’s real life encounter, I suspect the evangelist wasn’t a Jews For Jesus fella – those guys are ‘way cool!
I used to play with tele-marketers and such. Now I just hang up and get back to whatever, or walk on by.
Interesting thing about panhandlers – there are regional differences. NYC, you can ignore them, and they expect it. West Coast (SF, LA), ignore them, and they take offense. West Coast sensibility, you are expected to engage with them, even if you aren’t going to give alms. In NYC, rudeness is de rigeur and everyone knows it.
Should you give alms to a wino panhandler when it is freezing out? One school of charity-thought suggests you should give without any thought to whether the beggar will use the dough on sin or not. Then there is the Food Stamps school of thought – give in-kind charity, so they can’t spend it on booze. Then there is the Ebeneezer school – give enough so the wino can get REALLY loaded, pass out in an alley, get hypothermia, and go to heaven.
As to Jeffrey S. Frawley on Catholics versus Christians – Ask a person what his religion is. If he says, “I’m Catholic,” ask yourself why he didn’t say, “I’m Christian.” I have NEVER heard an RC say, “I’m Christian” as a reflexive response. It’s always, “I’m Catholic.” Moving to column “B,” the old PC saw says that you shouldn’t call people by a name they don’t use for themselves. Okay, then – let’s not.
I love ObeeKris’s greeting. I never heard that one before. Gotta remember it. A greeting I do use on occasion is, “Porta’s Mortuary. You stab ‘em. We slab ‘em.”
Craig J. Ries gets in a good point about racially-targeted marketing. I live in California, and my name ends in a vowel, so you know I get tons of junk mail and such in Spanish. (I have no Hispanic heritage at all.) But the weirdest one I got was back in the days before there was a national do-not-call list. My Grampa Gill loved his Scotts heritage, my middle name is after Mom’s brother, and I am listed in the phone book by full name – David Malcolm Porta (can be sung to the tune of “Fascinatin’ Rhythm” and if you know your CBG, that tells you my surname’s ethnicity). Telephone solicitor was black, and apparently, so am I. Didn’t you know that “Malcolm’ is a black name? My poor nephew: it’s his first name.
What? I figured you’d LOVE learning that you’re about to be living in the house that Crazy Larry The Ax Murderer killed all his victims in.
Oh THAT would be totally cool…my fear is that any death in our house has been the result of flicking the light switch.
Also, people who built houses in 1915 did not evidently have a lot of clothes to hang. If you add up ALL the closets in this 5 bedroom house together you would have a good sized modern closet. Clearly, we have become quite adept at collecting wasteful crap.
Fatter too. The hole to get up to the attic is too small for even my modest frame. For all I know, Crazy Larry is right up there, biding his time. Freezing too–insulation must be a post-1915 invention. Tough luck, Larry!
David Porta – The point about Catholic/Christian is that any Catholic would answer the question “Are you a Christian?” with “Yes” or “Of course I am! I’m Catholic.” My canoeing companions were under the impression that the answer would be “No.” I know a few too many fundamentalists who think they are the only Christians, and others are dangerous lunatics.
The house we lived in back in Northern CA was interesting from an electrical POV. Our favorite phrase for it was “wired by madmen.” Light switches that so far as we knew did nothing, a particular light bulb that so far as we could figure out had no switch to control it of any kind … that sort of thing.
A lovely house in some ways, but insane in others.
TWL
In this day and age, most all people know what telemarketing is. If they take the job anyway, they know what they are in for. It’s unfortunate, but it’s reality.
When we first moved into the last house we had before my parents went the cookie-cutter condo route, I could turn on the basement light by slamming my open palm against the wall near the switch.
Like the Fonz with the jukebox.
Then my Dad had it fixed.
When you’re a kid, turning on the light by flicking a switch is nowhere near as much fun as doing it like the Fonz.
And doesn’t impress your friends nearly as much.
Tim, maybe the electricians were fans of the Winchester Mystery House.
Rick
Some parts of our house-to-be are wired using the old knob & tube method which, to me, sounds just a small step above the classic Frankenstein Wires & Kites process but many old time electricians swear that they are still “the best dámņ way to wire your house”. These guys have probably touched a lot of exposed wires in their time though, so such advice should be accepted with caution. These people will also tell you that the best way to avoid zombie attacks is to board the windows and take turns shooting them with a shotgun when any fool knows that you should actually just bust up about 10 feet of staircase and sit quietly in the upstairs section of your house until you run out of food and/or the smaller, weaker members of your group.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkaxjymbfS0
Tim, maybe the electricians were fans of the Winchester Mystery House.
Could be — our place was only 10-15 miles from the Winchester. That’s not especially heartening, though, given what befell Sarah Winchester.
TWL
Posted by: David Porta
In NYC, rudeness is de rigeur and everyone knows it.
Old New York joke (which Ed McBain once translated to his fictional “Isola” in an 87th Precinct novel):
Tourist who’s been in town for three days says to a local on the street: “Excuse me, sir, can you tell me how to get to Times Square, or should I go f**k myself?”
Bill-congrats on the house. When’s the party? Wanna talk about odd houses–I know someone who bought a place where the husband was very handy and the wife was very naggy. Rather than argue, he’d just build something when she’d start crabbing. Doors that open on walls, walls on top of walls, what looked like storage compartments that opened on walls–these people apparently fought a lot.
“I love ObeeKris’s greeting. I never heard that one before.”
Reminds me of how a friend answered the phone after watching Courage the Cowardly Dog–(Sing along if you know it—)
“Fred FredBURGER, Fred FREDburger, Fred FredBURGER, Fred FREDBurger….”
Y-yes, Bill, it’s very c-c-cold up here. I c-can barely c-clutch my ax in a d-d-death grip. The zombies agree.
Y-yes, Bill, it’s very c-c-cold up here. I c-can barely c-clutch my ax in a d-d-death grip. The zombies agree.
Y-yes, Bill, it’s very c-c-cold up here. I c-can barely c-clutch my ax in a d-d-death grip. The zombies agree.
Y-yes, Bill, it’s very c-c-cold up here. I c-can barely c-clutch my ax in a d-d-death grip. The zombies agree.
Y-yes, Bill, it’s very c-c-cold up here. I c-can barely c-clutch my ax in a d-d-death grip. The zombies agree.
Bill Mulligan,
Perhaps it would be best if you had the entire house re-wired. Modern appliances can overload older systems.
As I know a person who inspects houses, I know that you can get a home inspection in northwest Ohio for about $250. Don’t know what it would cost in your area, but it might be a good idea to have the house gone over by an expert before you buy, or before you start to re-model and possibly come across hidden problems.
Thanks Alan–good advice. Fortunately I’m married to someone who thinks of these things. It was our inspector (a tad more than $350 but worth every penny) who pointed out that there were wires that even HE was afraid to get too close too. So we hired an electrical inspector and he gave it the big once over and we negotiated with the seller to fix things prior to our moving in and/or me electrocuting my stupid self. We close Monday!
Bill-congrats on the house. When’s the party?
March 2, if by party you mean we make you carry boxes into the house and give you beer and pizza. Luckily we have many friends who think that is a pretty sweet deal. You know one of the great things about low budget movie making? You end up with a huge call list of people who are happy to put themselves in uncomfortable positions for meager rewards.
Y-yes, Bill, it’s very c-c-cold up here. I c-can barely c-clutch my ax in a d-d-death grip. The zombies agree.
When they thaw out you’ll be glad you have the axe.
BTW, from the shelled pecans I have found beneath the small opening to the closet, I, detective Mulligan, have deduced that there may be squirrels up there. Be careful, my crazy homicidal friend, they can deliver quite the nip.b
You know what’s interesting? For as many pecans as I’ve had in my life, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one in the shell.
As for Rude York–yeah, you’ll run into it on occasion, but generally whenever I’ve been there(I used to go up at least twice a week) rude was the exception, not the rule. Now, to have full disclosure, I haven’t been up there much lately apart from several basketball games at the Garden. Anybody else have this experience, or am I just really thick and not good at paying attention to things?
> Now if we could only do something about email spam.
Only two ways I can think of.
1 – as a friend suggested, a parallel mail network which can only be posted in by verifyable sources.
2 – a true ‘AI’ system to scan through all mail traffic to filter out spam intelligently.
Neither are likely in the near future, unfortunately.
Bill Mulligan: Some parts of our house-to-be are wired using the old knob & tube method….
Luigi Novi: And you thought the repairman with the exposed butt crack showed too much. I don’t wanna know how this guy installed your system without electrocuting himself.
Yeah, OK.
Mulligan.
You have an axe-murderer in your attic, possibly alive, possibly not. You also have a possible infestation of homicidal squirrels. And bad electrical wiring.
Oh, and possibly Zombies as well.
Gosh, I am just *so* looking forward to visiting you and Shonna next month.
Do I look like I have good enough credit to buy a noninfested, haunted, axe-murderer dwelling domicile??? We were lucky to get this one, lucky I say!
As for the electrical fires, don’t be such a namby pamby. A free bucket of baking soda is provided in each bedroom.
It could be worse. You forgot to tell him it’s easy to find your place since it’s the house by the cemetery.
Hmmmm. Guess that means we need to add the basement to the things we don’t go into when visiting Mulligan’s place.
Oh yeah, Dr. Freudstein. Nice guy. Quiet. Loves kids.
Luckily we didn’t get The old dark house at the edge of Dead End Park. You know, the last house on the left. The house where evil dwells. Doug Evil. Nice guy. Quiet. Loves kids.
Just a few minutes ago, the phone rings. It’s a telemarketer. She asks for me by first name.
“Who’s calling?” I ask, knowing full well it’s a telemarketer and not someone of my acquaintance, because I can hear the sounds of a telemarketing call center in the background.
She says she’s calling from a particular bank.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“When would be a good time to reach him?” she asks.
I decide to confirm my identity.
“This is him. What do you want?”
And she hangs up.
Muy interesante.
Rick
Jeffrey S. Frawley, what you wrote. “My canoeing companions were under the impression that [any Catholic would answer the question “Are you a Christian?” with] the answer would be “No.”
Your companions thought RCs would deny being Christian?
What else? Do they think Jews For Jesus would deny being Jews?
As to “fundamentalists,” why limit yourself? It was The Reformer, Martin Luther, who identified the pope as anti-christ, and the RCC as the whørë of Babylon.
What do I hear? “Oh, those Lutherans and their Book of Concord, and that whole Protestant Reformation! Gosh-darnit!”
Bill Mulligan said:
“Fortunately I’m married to someone who thinks of these things. It was our inspector (a tad more than $350 but worth every penny) who pointed out that there were wires that even HE was afraid to get too close too. So we hired an electrical inspector and he gave it the big once over and we negotiated with the seller to fix things prior to our moving in and/or me electrocuting my stupid self.”
=====
Great! You’ve spent less than $1000 on inspectors and may have saved yourself 10s of thousands in fire losses.
David Porta: My canoeing companions would have denied just about anything reasonable that you could think of. These are the same people who respond to the question “How do you know the Bible is true?” with “Well, of course it is! It says right in it that it is. What’s wrong with you?” I’ve gotten into arguments with people like them by pointing out that I could write a book which claimed to be true but was not. They reply “…but that would be a lie, and the Bible isn’t a lie…because it says it ISN’T a lie! Don’t you get it?” It’s hard to see how someone could be so convinced only his own faith in a Christian denomination founded more than 1500 years after the death of Christ is really the only real Christianity – but that’s exactly the way many feel.
You’re right that Luther (and many others) condemned opponents as heretics, liars and Antichrists. It was small-minded then, and remains so today.
While I agree with Bill that 90% of telemarketers are just trying to get through a mind numbing day in Hëll (insert preferred ring here), I feel that the most insistant, the “you REALLY need our Super Turbo Diesel Powered Sponge Sharpener and Carpet Buffer” types do earn my best material.
If, after the individual on the other end has not accepted my “Sorry, not interested, and please do not call in the future”, all bets are off.
Religious sales calls go straight to all bets are off.
_________________________________________________
Caller: Is Erin (my wife’s maiden name) available?
Me: Who’s calling?
Caller: DeLuxe Cat Waxing and Dog Polishing.
Me: Sorry, she hasn’t been available since our wedding day.
_______________________________________________
Caller: Have you heard the good word about Jesus?
Me: He’s got the 5 bucks he owes me?
________________________________________________
Jehovah’s witness at my door: I was wondering if I could come in and talk to you?
Me (pracising Pagan with pentagram on and altar in north end of house): What are we going to talk about?
J.W: What’s you’re view on the Last Days that we are in?
Me: Last days?
J.W: Before the Elect are called to the Throne.
Me: You’re sure you’re on of the Elect?
J.W:….(confused look)
Me: Sorry, my Goddess doesn’t do preferential treatment, or terroristic threats of “Last Days”. You still wanna talk?
________________________________________________
My parents immigrated from Switzerland (my father via Germany) in ’66. My mother is from the Engadine region, southeast near the Italian border (beautiful country, go if you can). In that region is a dialect called Romansch, sort of a mash of Latin, Italian and German. You pretty much have to pick it up from birth.
THAT is what my mom still drops on them. Works real good.
Weighing in onb the question of what Jeffery’s friends might or might not say – despite the fact that many of the more p[romonent of the FOunding Fathers were from the SOuthern colonies, and that most of them (if they followed any established religion) would have been Church of England/Anglican, when we moved South in the mid-50s, it was not at all uncommon for conversations to include the exchange:
“What church do you go to?”
“We’re Episcopalian.”
“Is that Christian?”
Of course, in those days, it was not unusual for people in the South to try to spell my name “Welborn”, either. (Nowadays, they mostly just translate it into “Webber”…)
I think “friends” would be a bit strong. “People I ran into around 1977 and a few who used to live across the street from me” would be closer to the truth. I’m not opposed to religion, but distrust anyone who uses it to avoid having to reason for himself.
I smiled at him and said, in a gentle voice, “I am Jesus.”
He looked at me uncertainly, laughed uncomfortably, and said, “No, you’re not.”
I put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Yes, I am, my son. I have returned. All will be well. Spread my word.”
Pad,
It would have been neat if your name was Jesus pronounced the Spanish way.
Thanks for the reminder, Manny. It’s well past time for my cats to have their annual wax.
Whenever we get these calls at dinnertime, we ask the caller for their home phone number and what time they’ll be sitting down for dinner. When they ask why we want to know, we tell them it’s so we can call them back during their dinner.
well, I just quit a job where i had to do quite a bit of cold calling and sales.
It’s amazing how idiotic some people think those of us who have to make phone calls are. For instance, after leaving a message, and then asking the person on the line who it is I am leaving a message with. This usually gets a uh, um uh, click.
My favorite is when some one hangs up on you in the middle of you telling them what you are calling about. At that point I call them right back, and say in a completely ignorantly innocent voice. “Sorry about that Mr./Mrs. SoandSo, I think we just got disconnected.”
Basically if you don’t want to get called back again, tell the people this. Don’t just hang up on them, don’t say so and so isn’t here right now. This means you will get called back later. If you are interested in information, tell them a better time for them to call you back, so they are not interupting anything. If you never want to hear from them again, tell them please take me off your list.
Finally, remember these are real live people you are speaking to. They probably don’t want to be calling you and bothering you, but they need to do something to put food on their family’s table. It boggles my mind how people feel it’s ok to yell at, scream at, or call some one dirty names because they took 30 seconds away from your evening. Just because you have the right to say what you want, you don’t have the right to be a jerk.
While I don’t do it all the time, what I tend to say is, “Listen Buddy, I am really not interested. Please take me off your list, and have a good night.”
Phil:
“Just because you have the right to say what you want, you don’t have the right to be a jerk.”
Bûllšhìŧ.
If, however, one chooses to be a jerk, or as we say in my native tongue an ‘áššhølë,’ one must be ready to accept the consequenses of that choice.
Everyone has a right to be an áššhølë. In fact many businesses are based on the concept.
Corporations that fire Americans for foreign labor: Úšhølëš.
Auditors who enjoy working for the I.R.S.: Úšhølëš.
Credit card companies: Úšhølëš.
Religous and youth oriented organizations that continue to shildren at risk: Úšhølëš.
Baks that charge a fee while using your money to make themselves money: Úšhølëš.
Reality T.V.: Shows run by áššhølëš to display the behavior of other áššhølëš.
If we deny people the right to be an áššhølë we’d put millions more out of work. That can’t be good for the ecconomy.
Mitch,
Just some áššhølë with internet access.