Friday, September 21, 2012

Wrong Foot

I apologize to all telemarketers that call my house wanting me to give them money in some form or another.  Either out of the goodness of my heard to help the poor starving children in some third world hell hole like La Jolla California, or think I might actually buy the product they are hawking after a chat on the tele.  "Replacement windows?  How can I lose?!!"

You see, you are doing it wrong when you say, "Good evening!  Is New Jovian there?"

No.  Mr. Thunderbolt is here on the phone talking to you.  And I don't know you from Adam's off ox.  I'd terminate this call politely had you remembered the Mister part, Chuckie.  Now you got my back up.  And I might be salty from this point on, to you and yourn.

Am I turning into a crotchety old bastard?  Perhaps.  Get off my lawn.


Wait!  Did I post something like this before?  The dementia is creeping up on ME, too, I think.

3 comments:

Bob S. said...

I simply ask telemarketers if they can hold on a minute while I get a pot off the stove and set the phone down.

Until I hear the dial tone.

mikee said...

I prefer to let them ramble on for a while, then interrupt with, "Can you speak up and say that again, I can barely hear you!"

Repeat until they give up.

azmrmacs said...

I LOVE when they would call me on my work number. USN or USAF base phone... DoD has way more lawyers and money to get numbers pulled when telemarketdroid is told DO NOT CALL.

No, you aren't getting old, you are suffering CRS. Cant Remember Sh$t.
HEY, can we file for Disability if we can prove to suffer from CRS? What a scam!