I don’t figure this deserves a pitting or anything, Chuck, but why are you screening your wife’s calls? If I called you up someday and your wife happened to answer the phone, would I have to clear it with her before I could talk to you? Do the two of you have a list of approved callers who have been pre-approved for an expedited turnover to the person they were calling?
I realize that what you’re actually doing is screening out the telemarketers that neither you or your wife want to talk to. But I’m thinking if I was John from your wife’s workplace and I was calling up because my car had just stolen and I was told by the personnel office that your wife lived in my neighbourhood and I was hoping she could give me rides to work for a week until I got my insurance money to buy a new car, I’d be a little annoyed if I had to explain all this to you in order to get your permission to talk to your wife.
I want my husband to ask why the person has called me. This way, he can set the phone down and say “It’s Mary, she’s calling to talk about planning to plant her garden.” so I have my mind in gear and ready to converse. I don’t like taking “cold calls”. It was also, at one point taught to children as part of phone etiquette. If you answer the phone, and it isn’t for you, inquire why the person is calling so you can inform the callee. Further, if the person is not available, you ask why the person called, so you can note it down so the callee knows why they are calling you back.
My husband prefers it if I screen his calls, and likewise, I prefer it if he does that for me. It’s nice sometimes to have someone else tell the telemarketer to go away.
It doesn’t take that much effort to say, “It’s John, <Chuck’s Wife>'s coworker,” instead of “John from Schenectady.” Who the hell announces themselves the latter way on the phone?
I’m not trying to screen my husband’s calls, but I try to make the point that someone calling my home ought to identify themselves. Isn’t that the way most phone calls should start? The caller ID display is in the handset of our phone and sometimes it isn’t visible or hasn’t registered yet when I pick up the phone. So if you’re calling, identify yourself.
In Japan it’s expected that whoever calls will tell who they are to whoever answers the phone, both at home and in the office. Refusing to tell is rude, partly based on the differences in culture over here of inside the group and outside the group.
While in the States, it has considered rude to screen personal calls in the past, there has been a greater acceptance, if not a requirement for this in a work environment.
In the age of ubiquitous telemarketers, many more people are using mechanical screening; expecting not to be challenged by the gatekeeper could be ignoring reality.
Simple answer: she asked me to. She doesn’t want to deal with telemarketers, and I can be much nastier.
More complex: at the moment, her father has terminal cancer and she wants a respite from talking to strangers.
No. I generally answer the phone when I’m home. If it’s someone we know, I give the phone to her (assuming she’s up to it – see previous answer). If it’s not someone we know, I get the name and ask her if she wants to talk to them. Because of the current situation, I automatically say no to telemarketers.
As far as I’m concerned, saying, “It’s John from work” is plenty. OTOH, my wife is a housewife, so this scenario wouldn’t happen. She does some freelancing, but I know the people who she works with and they have no problem saying why they’re calling.
The issue here was that the person refused to give any identifying information at all and got defensive when I asked some pretty basic things.
I had a snooty sounding woman call a week or so ago. She asked to speak to Mr. MangledVersionOfOurName. I told her honestly that no one by that name lived here.
My husband used to be able to screen salespeople from reaching his Grandfather pretty easily. If you called and asked for Joe and didn’t sound like you were over 80, you were full of crap. If you asked to speak with Mr. Smith and you sounded under 80, you could probably get through.
Heck, virtually no one called him by his first name, he was Always Mr. Smith. Even his wife referred to him that way.
For some reason, I used to get a fair number of bizarre calls when I lived in Chicago in the early '90s.
One night, the phone rang at around eleven o’clock. This in itself wasn’t unusual, and we were usually awake then anyway, so it was no big deal.
When I answered the phone, I was greeted by a low, dangerous, rumbling voice; the sort you associate with large dark men who haul you into back alleys and offer to practice their chiropractic skills on you if you don’t sign up for their cash-only medical insurance plan.
Caller: “Yeah, lemme talk to Jimmy.”
Me: “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.”
Caller: (starting to sound angry) “I said, lemme talk to Jimmy.”
Me: (getting nervous) “There’s no Jimmy here; I’m sorry, but you have the wrong number.”
Caller: (angrier) “Get Jimmy on the line right now.”
Me: (drawing all the window blinds) “Look, I’m really sorry, but you have the wrong number.”
Caller: (pissed off) “Don’t be playin’ games wit’ me, boy! Where the hell is Jimmy?”
Me: (flipping through the Yellow Pages for “Witness Protection Program”) “Uh…look, what phone number were you trying to call?”
Caller: (emphatic) “XXX-XX34.”
Me: “This is XXX-XX43.”
Caller: “Oh.” (pause) “Did I wake you up?”
Uh, yeah, this is much like my response, but because I’m self-employed and sometimes get calls from potential clients (and, although rarely, the authors whose books I’m working on), I need to be more polite. At Casa Scarlett, the scenario is more like this:
ring
Scarlett: Hello?
Caller: Who’s this?
Scarlett: (thinking) You called me! State your business! (saying) Who’s calling, please?
After that, the conversation might become more normal (“Oh, this is [some legitimate caller who just has no phone manners] and I’m calling about [reason].”)
But then there are the telemarketers or people who are even more rude:
Caller: This is Todd. (Note: I don’t know anyone named Todd.)
Scarlett: OK, and who are you trying to reach?
At this point it becomes clear whether we have a telemarketer or some clueless dolt dialing a wrong number. Either way, the call soon ends, because most of the people I would want to talk to do not have the phone manners of a caveman.
For God’s sake, what is so hard about “Hi, this is Bill. Can I talk to Mr. S?”
I won’t get into the ones who ask to speak to “your mother” (apparently I sometimes sound like a child). STATE THE NAME OF THE PERSON YOU’RE TRYING TO REACH, DUMBASS!!!
