Phone Abuse

Let's talk just a bit about telephone solicitation, shall we? Yes. A while ago there was legislation pending before some body of government or other, to make it illegal for telephone solicitors to continue talking after the victim has expressed lack of interest in the product or service being offered.

Now, phone soliciting is annoying. I think I'm safe in saying that we all value it as much as we value intestinal parasites. But legislation? what happened to spine?

Hang up on these people, don't get into a freaking lawsuit about it. Even if and when they have government-sponsored duct-tape over their mouths, they are still going to try to remove money from you, and it will still be during dinner, "Seinfeld," or your shower.

Knowing that telephone solicitation is here to stay, and that many people in this area are cursed with a self-inflicted nastiness deficiency, I'm here to offer a few suggestions on How to Deal With Phone Solicitors Without Guilt (ambiguity deliberate).

I learned part of this from my father, the champion of guiltless honesty. I overheard him talking to a political pollster last election year: "I'm sorry, but I'd vote for Captain Bligh before I'd vote for your man."

Most of us don't have that kind of cool. We want folks to think we're nice. This is our downfall, because the solicitors know this and know how to make folks feel rude, which leads to guilt, the driving force of life, the very gift that keeps on giving. The reason for Amway.

So in a spirit of complete congeniality I offer my techniques as learned at the knee of my father, which you will accept gracefully BECAUSE you haven't learned them yet. (See what I just did there?) You don't want me to get all pouty and depressed. The best way to stump the perpetrators of phone plague is to beat them at their own game (this also works with certain breeds of Church Ladies, but don't tell). The key is given by the callers themselves. It is insufferably cheerful talkiness.

They start with a long uniterruptible speech ending with a leading and seemingly innocent question. This is known as the hook, and fish haven't figured it out yet either, even thought their brains compare favorably to some humans': "Hi Zee-na, my name is Boris and I'm so happy to reach you I just have a couple of questions if you'll hang on with me here today I'm calling on behalf of TheInternationalHouseofTapewormshowareyoutoday?"

If you answer "fine," which is the anticipated, operantly-conditioned, Gricean Maximian (look it up) response, you're screwed.


Instead, what you must do at this point is talk faster, and have more to say than they do. Then, while youare talking, not while they are talking, you hang up. You have to sound excruciatingly happy, though, so they don't realize what you are up to (and to calm the internal "don't be rude" voice of your mother and/or the goldfish from The Cat in the Hat--same diff). This way, they will feel as defensive about your wall o' noise, as bullied into hearing you out as they had meant you to be by theirs. Remember to be quick. Don't punctuate or take a breath. It helps to have a speech prepared so you don't stop or pause too long, so practice this and be ready when the phone rings:

"Boris is it really you dang it's great to hear from you how is Jezebel how are the kids hows yer mom and alla them I have been doing pretty well on the whole but my hair is limp and lifeless and my soft drink is not the game-changer I'd hoped it would be and darn it my arthritis is acting up with this weather we've been having did you see that thing on the news about going into labor when you're talking n the phone because Honey I swear that's me now that I'm three weeks overdue--" click.

And they will be glad to be rid of you. No guilt; you just did them a favor. (Gentlemen may want to change the last little bit in the speech.)

The really wonderful part about this cheerfulness thing is that it affords you brutal honesty, should you prefer that to claiming labor pains. Just the other day I had a caller offer me a "free" t.v. satellite dish as a premium to buying something outrageously expensive--like the honor of their magical ability to turn the dish ON. I forced my face into a broad, vowel-flattening smile and chirped with happy insincerity, "Heeeeey! You know what I'd rather have a live komodo dragon in my back yard than a satellite dish they look so much less trashy and I trust em more around the children but thanks for calling and you know what I bet if you took the GRE again you'd get a better score this time and graduate school is just so worth it it practically pays for itself after a couple of years in a profession where you get to use your own brain you know what I mean--" click.

Such a favor I did that guy. Maybe someday he'll let me know if he got accepted into that Social Work program he'd been thinking about.