Friday, June 01, 2007

the continuing saga...

so "toll free" called one more time after i posted yesterday. upon hearing a male voice say, "hello, helloo?" they promptly hung up.

i was fuming.

then i read all the comments left me by you, the (not so) non-existant readers, and had a good laugh. i have actually done things like that in the past. though none nearly as clever as all that. particularly the "how long have you known the victim" thing and "she's left me and i am going to kill myself." dear lord, i was rolling! i do, it might be good to reiterate here, have an extremely twisted sense of humor.

"toll free" called again today. i did not swear, i simply asked if it was company x (the company that my wife clearly and firmly told to fuck off, though not quite in those words), and no, this is company y. i let the poor girl do her schpiel, and then told her that thank you, but we were not interested as we didn't need that particular service (sorta like having insurance on your credit cards--you pay a little each month and if you lose your job or whatever, you can defer your payments for a short period of time).

i was extremely polite.

if i am in the right mood, i will totally mess with these people. the following are a couple examples:

i once answered, and proceeded to attempt a conversation, in a made-up language.

"gumka? gumka, bigga est baclay. du cannae wattapukomp?"

they hung up.

another time, a telemarketer called while both my children (then 2 yrs and 6 months) were screaming loudly in the near-background. i hit talk, waited a moment, and said, "now is a really bad fucking time. so if you can't say what you need to say in ten seconds or less, then don't even bother." (all with harmonizing wails so loud as to make it virtually impossible for me to hear myself talking.)

click.

the funniest, and funnest, time i had was on a call offering a similar thing as "toll free". i had been getting calls once a month from one of our other credit cards for this insurance thingie. every month i would tell them no, thank you, we didn't need it.

then one morning, a nice-sounding young man with a pleasant voice called. a real go-getter, judging by his phone ettiquette.

so i say, "let me tell ya, john (or whatever it was), my wife is in the military. it is damn near impossible to get 'fired' from the military." [we knew this, because one of my wife's troops, who was a complete and utter fuck-up, was in the military a full year-and-a-half of fucking up before they finally booted him.]

he chuckled and said, "right."

then i said, "now, let's imagine for a moment that, god forbid, my wife loses an arm or a leg or her mind. the military will medically release her, giving her a large lump some of money when they kick her out, as well as a percentage of her pay at the time of release every month until she dies. which we would use to pay off this credit card."

he's laughing a little harder, and says, "uh huh."

"now, john, let's go for the big one. if, by some freak chance, and i'm not wanting this to happen, mind you, but we are talking about worst-case scenarios here, my wife is killed in some way. well, through the military we have a wonderful life insurance policy, which i again would use to pay off all our bills, including this credit card."

he is outright laughing now, and says, "ok."

"so, as you can see, i really don't need this protection plan, and if you wouldn't mind passing on to whoever, you guys don't have to call me anymore and use up your precious time on me."

(still laughing) "i will get that done mr. sardonic. and ty for your time."

"no, thank you."

now, if that telemarketer had been selling something i might've even thought i might be remotely interested in, i would've told him yes, just for having so good-naturedly put up with my diatribe.

clearly, the time of sufficient rest continues. we'll see for how long, hahahaha.

darth sardonic

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3 Comments:

Blogger Keeping It Real said...

I HATE telemarketers, too. Who doesn't, I guess. But even more, I hate the folks who call my house weekly in search of Target.

"Target clearly doesn't live here."

The Target they want is just a couple of miles away and is one digit away from having my same phone number. I can understand, and even forgive, one misdial. But it jacks me up when we get a repeat caller, like the guy who had a job interview at Target and wanted to confirm the time.

"It's at 2 a.m.," I should've said. But I'm sure a dense ass like that didn't get the job anyway.

2:39 PM  
Blogger DJ Kirkby said...

Lol! The bit about using a fake language! LOL!!!! I may just try that...

11:00 PM  
Blogger wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

I love your evil genious, Darthman.

1:46 PM  

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