What, aren’t you having his mail forwarded?
Even being on the New York do not call list, I still get calls. (For reasons which are about to change, I have a debit card from Pennsylvania, and telemarketers seem to get my details from there.)
I got one last night that started out “Please hold for one of our operators…” Ha ha, nice try! <click>
Daniel, the universities I’ve worked for have “phone-a-thons.” Personally, I don’t like them, but, incredibly, some of our alumni actually look forward to them!
I hate telephone solicitors. I just say no-thanks and hang up. They’ve forced me to be rude. If I wait for them to end the call, I’ll be there all day!
Heck, for that matter, why do they all assume that any female old enough to have a phone is bound in legal matrimony at all? Actually, I’m glad they haven’t figured it out, as it’s an automatic way to screen my calls:
“Hello, can I speak to Mrs. Porpentine?”
“I’m sorry, she lives in Virginia now.” (Indeed, my mother and grandmother have both lived in Virginia since well before I was born.)
“Oh. Well, good day.” Click.
Delightfully simple. I hope they never figure out the truth.
Careful with this. They’re called toner pirates, and they want the model number so they can send overpriced toner COD, hoping it will get paid amidst the office bureacracy.
One of these days I’m going to tell them “Why, it’s a Classico Prismatic, printing in 5,000 colors, including MacLeod Plaid” and see what they say.
While I was working as a receptionist, a telemarker called and said,
T: Hi! Listen, I forgot the VPs name. Can you tell me what it is?
Me: Oh, do you mean Gill Fins?
T: Yes! Gill! Is he around?
Me: No, he’s not available right now.
<end of conversation>
Gill Fins was the name of our fish. For years, we got calls & mail for “Gilbert Finns”.
Oh wait, this is the pit. Goddamn stupid lying telemarketers!
I work for a Japanese company. Part of our name is “Marubeni.”
We ALWAYS get calls for “Mr. Marubeni.” The response I’m DYING to give (that they won’t allow me to): “I’m sorry sir/ma’am, but that’s impossible. Mr. Marubeni founded our parent company in Japan in 1847. He’s been dead for 100 years now.”
DAMNED SUNZABITCHES!!!
i’m still trying to talk my officemate into installing a “no solicitors” sign on our office door, we always get those damn office supply salespeople wandering into our office. How are they able to do that? It’s almost impossible to get them to leave, I swear, sometimes they’re bordering on harrassment… :mad:
Our phone is in my GFs name. So I answer the phone and always get “Ah, yes, Mr. Morelin?”
My response is either an instant hangup or yelling “GOD, I SURE AS HELL HOPE NOT” before hanging up.
My surname is German in origin, and starts with EU. As speakers of American English this is generally pronounced as YOO. But some folks, telemarketers in particular, try to sound both letters and end up mangling it. So if the caller hesitates in the pronunciation of my name I know it’s a solicitation. I love to mess with them. They will say “may I speak to Mrs. mangled garble” and I put on my best chilly voice and say "this is Ms. correct pronunciation. It’s funny when they start stuttering an apology, realizing they’ve got off on the wrong foot. Then I hang up.
I have a very high voice. On multiple occasions I’ve answered the phone and been asked, “Are your parents home?” or “Is your mother there?”
What I WISH I’d say – I never think of doing it when they’re actually on the line – is “I don’t know. They live six hundred miles away, why don’t I call and see?” Though they DON’T live six hundred miles away anymore, so it’d be a lie. But it’d be worth it.
What I usually say, because it is quicker, “No.” Then the pesky telemarketer goes away.
Ooh, they annoy me!
I have a very simple 5 letter last name that TM manage to mangle.
So now when they call and ask is Mr. Manglename there I reply
There is no one here by that name. And I hang up
I work for a not-for-profit organization, so anymore I tell telemarketers: “No, but if you would like to make a tax deductible in-kind donation to our project, we will certainly appreciate it.”
Chicken Scratch, may I suggest an alternate script?
While I was working as a receptionist, a telemarker called and said,
T: Hi! Listen, I forgot the VPs name. Can you tell me what it is?
Me: Oh, do you mean Gill Fins?
T: Yes! Gill! Is he around?
Me: No, he died and we flushed him down the toilet. <clik>
Since I’m single as soon as they say “Mrs. Lorinada?” I say “No” and hang up.
My father’s name is Francis. Of course, these ignorant telemarketers don’t understand the difference between Francis and Frances, so when my mother picks up the phone they start with “Frances?” which of course is a dead giveaway that they are not friends on a first-name-basis. She just mumbles “not interested” and hangs up without letting them say another word.
Heh heh, this reminds me of a telemarketer who called me when I was living in England. At the time, I was living in a house owned by the college. I paid my rent to the officer of the college in charge of finances, whose title was the “Home Bursar.”
One day I get a call. “Hi, is Mr. Bursar there?” I was completely thrown. “Who?” There’s a long pause. “Hoooome Bursar?” Even the telemarketer was thinking this was a bad idea already. “What do you want from Hooooome Bursar?” I asked. Apparently she wanted to sell storm windows. I was laughing so hard at that point, I ended up giving her his office number! I wonder what he did, if indeed they called him!
I cannot stand telemarketers who ask for you simply by first name. I may think it is a telemarketer, then still answer because it may genuinly be someone who needs to talk to me. I do not know you, do not talk to me like you know me. I would be more likely to give you the time of day, if you treated me with respect than to try to act like a friend over the phone.
The call that pissed me off the most was from one of those police charities. I simply told the man on the other line that I was on an international call and could he call me back at a later time, and he had the nerve to say to me “this is also a long distance call and I would appreciate a few minutes of your time now”. I hung up the phone and never gave to them again. When I am paying international rates by the minute, you are not fucking going to reimburse me for that time you wasted. Nor am I going to keep my friend who I don’t talk to often on hold while you give me some stupid sales pitch. Fuck off!
Before Jim and I were married we were living in the same house, and I was unemployed. Some financing company wanted very badly to try to sell more products to Jim, so they would call me about 3 times a week during the day, when Jim was at work and not available, but I was at home waiting for calls about jobs so I had to answer the phone. They wouldn’t accept my request not to call anymore, because I wasn’t married to Jim and only Jim or his wife could request to be put on their “quit bugging me” list, and they never got to talk to Jim, and I had to keep answering the phone and telling them to go away. They wouldn’t leave a number for Jim to phone in the evening to tell them to piss off, either. It got really frustrating there for awhile.
(One of my first official acts as Jim’s wife was to tell this company to take a flying leap the first time they called after the wedding. Man, that felt good.)
Because it’s a reasonably safe bet that it is. And even if we’re wrong in our assumption, such a trifling error isn’t likely to make a difference as to whether or not we get a donation.
My favourite was the one that used to call me up every Friday at dinnertime and offer to clean my carpets.
Woman: “We’d like to come out and clean your carpets for free”.
Me: “But I don’t have any carpets”.
Woman: “Everyone has carpet in their house”.
Me: “Ever heard of hardwood?”.
Woman “But you must have one carpet…”
This went on for a few weeks and they just kept calling until I changed my approach to this… I am sure it was always the same young woman who was making the calls.
Woman: “We’d like to come out and clean your carpets for free”.
Me: “But I don’t have any carpets”.
Her: “Everyone has carpet in their house”.
Me: “Ever heard of hardwood?”
Her: “But you must have one carpet…”.
Me: “You have a really sexy voice”
Woman: “What?”
Me: “So… what are you wearing?”
Woman: “I don’t think you should be asking me that.”
Me: “I look forward to your calls every week… <heavy breathing>.”
Woman: “Stop that”.
Me: “Wanna see my hard wood?”
click
Funny… she never called back.