Okay. My take on the telemarketing situation:
Although I have Caller ID, I still pick up the phone for “Unavailable” callers, because I hate just letting my phone ring, and if I don’t personally give the caller the brush-off, they’ll just call me again some other time. So, I talk to them.
Actually, I don’t so much talk to them as let them go through their script as long as it takes for them to reach a stopping point. You know, the part where they actually ask you a question. Usually it’s something pushy, like, “I’ll just sign you up right now, okay?” It is at that point that I say “no”, as many times as it takes, and usually that is quite a number of times.
In fact, “no” alone is rarely sufficient. I want them to be aware without question that I don’t want whatever they’re selling. My responses are always honest, but they are indeed firm, as they must be. “I’m living on student loans, I can’t afford to give anything to your charity.” “I barely have time to read the magazines I actually WANT to read, much less any others.” “Listen, you say ‘pre-approved’, but when you actually RESEARCH my credit, it’ll be declined, so let’s not bother.” “No, I don’t need accidental death insurance, because I’m a law student, so if I get killed, someone will have done it on purpose.”
And a big “badger biscuits!” to all those “you’re taking food out of the mouths of telemarketers and their Dondi-eyed infants” people. By law, they’re required to receive the minimum wage. If they get paid less and the rest is supposed to be made up by commissions, the employer is required to make up the difference if their actual pay winds up being less than the minimum. So, excuse the hell out of me for failing to give people a cash bonus. Only one entity is harmed by keeping a telemarketer on the line, and that is the firm employing the telemarketer. And they should lose money. Telemarketing won’t stop until it becomes unprofitable, and I’m going to nudge it in that direction with a clear conscience.
And if you want a personal reason why I hate them so much, how about the time they woke me up on Saturday morning, evidently took something I said as an acceptance, and wrote themselves a $70 check from my bank account? Hell with that noise. I’m taking my pound of flesh.