Freaking telemarketers. They are really doing my head in lately.
I know they are just doing their job. MPS did a little telemarketing years ago to supplement our income, so I know how hard it is. But some of them are just total arsehats and deserve my disdain.
Ring Ring, trills the phone interrupting my blogging fun.
‘Hello Mrs XXX how are you today?’ singsongs a heavy accented man,
‘Fine’ I cagily reply while bill due dates fly through my mind.
‘Well Mrs XXX’ he continues, getting my name terribly wrong and my mother-in-law spins in her grave, ‘My name is Steve and I am calling from……..’
My mind wanders, his voice gets more excited. Steve from some middle eastern call centre thinks he has got himself a winner. Something about my winning a holiday or a mobile phone or somesuch.
‘Look Steve, I am really busy right now so sorry I am not interested.’
‘Oh but Mrs abortion-of-my-last-name-sending-the-old-girl-spinning, you get a yada yada yada……’ I’m not listening again… the shiny, you see.
‘Steve, I am not interested, thanks for your time’
I hate doing that. But sometimes they won’t get the message. Fuckers.
‘Hello Mrs abortion-of-my oh you remember the rest’
‘Why hello STEVE! Didn’t I just hang up on you?’
And I have a short attention span?
But my absolute favourite of all time:
Ring Ring as I am running out the door to pick up Boo from school. I HAVE to be standing out the front of his classroom at 3.25 exactly when he comes out to get his bag. Otherwise *shudder* you don’t want to know.
‘Hello Mrs last-name-wrong-old-lady-gyrating’ coos a sweet grandmotherly voice.
‘Hello’ I reply getting sucked in by her sweet Nanna voice
‘How are you today’ she coos down the phone line, shit this woman is good
‘Fabulous thanks! I am just running out the door to pick up my son’
‘Oh, well I will only take a minute of your time. I am calling today to ask for your help, kids with (insert condition here, I don’t want to name it) need your help and support. Today all I am asking is for you to take a book of raffle tickets at $20 a ticket…….’
‘Look, I am totally supportive of your cause but I have a child with Autism and I am raising funds for that, so I am sorry I can’t help you today. Good luck though’ I say, thinking wish we had someone like her for our fundraising.
Her voice is noticeably cooler ‘Well that is all fine and dandy, but you don’t understand. This is much much worse than Autism!’
I stop midair, coat half on. This particular condition is mild compared with what I deal with everyday.
‘Are you a doctor?’
‘No’ coolness is escalating to ice-cubes-down-your-panties cold
‘So you must be a psychologist then?’
‘No, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything. You need to support these parents as you are lucky that your child is healthy. What would you do if your child got sick?’ retorts the Ice Queen
Fuck me dead. This woman is unbeliveable.
‘Well I would do what I am doing now. Would you care to purchase a book of my raffle tickets’
Biatch hung up on ME!
And then I was late picking up Boo. And all hell broke loose.
Yes, this is a repost. Originally posted 6 October last year. But I purdied it up a bit with a picture and stuff.