Strange Brew by John Deering for February 17, 2022

…and would you hold for this brief satisfaction survey?

Just put him on hold and leave him there.

Yup. I have even told some of them that they’re stunting their souls by doing crap like that.

Telemarketers get a maximum of 5 seconds of my time.

Yes.

Based on the scam calls I get, he belongs in Naraka.

Being a telemarketer I believe his life has been hellish enough!!!

Most telemarketers themselves are probably just schmoes desperate for a job. It’s their bosses who are the real evil ones.

I use caller ID to screen my calls.

I don’t harrrass telemarketers, they got a job to do and it’s one you can’t pay me enough money to do and they don’t get paid a lot of money.

If it’s a robot, I hang up immediately. If it is a person, I simply tell them that I am not interested and hang up even if they are still talking.

T-Mobil’s Caller ID is fairly helpful, it ID’s a lot of them as “Scam Likely”. Otherwise I handle them like most of you do. The ones I really don’t understand, though, are the ones that don’t say or do anything when I answer. Why the heck did they call then?

If I don’t recognize the number, I don’t answer. If it’s important, they can leave a message or call back.

Every time a phone rings a telemarketer loses his wings.

It was either that or dealing in politics.

Best quote of the day!…..they drive me insane

He is there because he stole someone else’s information, he is from the IRS you know.

If they are legit, they get my empathy for doing a job which has so much negativity attached to it, and yet they persevere rather than drawing welfare. But if scammers, they get a few choice words..

I have called back a few times, because the numbers were from towns where I have friends who might be calling to say they change their phone number. Out of curiosity I have called back to towns with fewer than 200 residents. Two different numbers were legitimate with people at first wondering who I was and then mad that someone was using their number for robocalls.

Undoubtedly.

Check out Chuck Palahniuk’s book Damned. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Damned_(novel) “In Hell, Madison works as a telemarketer, calling the living during mealtimes to ask them inane survey questions. For the most part, only the terminally ill and elderly answer Madison’s surveys and they are charmed by her, so much so that she convinces them to commit mortal sins so they can spend eternity in Hell with her…”

If he has been transformed into an equisapien, does he get a free pass?

Everyone’s got to make a living and I suppose we should feel sorry for those who earn their income by making people miserable. With that said, kick him downstairs.

Obviously indeed…..

Amen!

Could you please take a seat in that hand basket?

I used to ‘sell’ (free home placement if you just ‘keep it up to date’ meaning buy a yearbook annually for 10 years) Collier’s Encyclopedia (read ‘reference library’) door to door. Usually in neighborhoods where people were poor to begin with. In 112 degree weather. We could choose the ‘salary’ plan (in 1963 $97.50 a week—big buxx then) or the ‘incentive’ (read straight commission) of $70.00 per set sold. One schmo opted for the salary plan, and insisted despite strong pressure to do otherwise. No such option. He sued. I dunno the outcome. They had us believing all the shtick just as badly as we tried to have the customers believe ours. We were Market Research Analysts (NEVER ’Salesmen")

Some examples of the tactics we used:(1).Ring doorbell. Lady answers.

“Good day, I’m not sure if I have the right house. What’s the name here?”

“Watson”. Or sometimes “Why do you wanna know?” (We had a comeback for that too.)

“Then you must be Mrs. Watson.” (We look at our clipboard.) “Yes, you’ve been selected for our Market Research Analysis.”

We shake hand as we nudge ourselves into the house. Try doing that these days; you might get shot.

(2)In the office before going out in the field, we’d get pepped up by memos from our ‘regional executive manager’ named “B. J. Wright.” We were told he made $150,000 a year and STILL went out door to door himself. Funny, but there was never a signature on his memos, just a typed name. Hmmmm.

I sold no sets.

“No mistake, St. Peter. Why, just last week I called God on the phone and He accepted my very special offer . . . "