it works
Literally years ago I blogged this fantastic script to use whenever telemarketers ring up.
I’d always meant to use it, and more recently I’d printed it out and stuck it to the fridge. And then at last, right in the middle of teatime this evening, the phone rang.
“It’s a private number”, Becky pointed out.
Aha! I thought. Now’s the time. How dare the buggers phone at tea time? So I answered. And improv’d a little while I made it to the fridge.
“Could I speak to Mr and Mrs Macdougall?” the caller asked.
“We can’t both talk to you at once. Who would you prefer?”, I asked.
“err… Mr Macdougall… I work for [...]. We’d like to…”
“Excuse me there… but what is [...] selling?”
By this time I was at the fridge. I let her continue.
“We sell insurance. And…”
“And what’s your name?”, I read from the script.
“Angela. And…”
“And how do you spell that?”
“A. N. G. E. L. A. We’d like…”
“And how did you find this phone number?”
“Uhhh, in the phone book I guess…”
“That’s nice. And is this your full time job?”
And so on it went, fairly faithfully following the script. It really does work when you take the initiative of the conversation away from them and keep hammering them politely but firmly with further questions.
Although she did start getting pretty suspicious by the time I asked her about her favourite toothpaste, and with Becky cracking up in the background it was time to wrap it up (politely).
“Oh… are we done now? Thanks for calling Angela. Good night!”
Score one for poetic justice: hopefully without traumatising the poor operative, who was just doing her job, I managed to waste several minutes of her employer’s time by using their own telemarketing techniques against her.
Thank you, Martijn Engelbregt, whoever you are!
RanK
8 May 2007, 09:42 #
I’ve had that awesome script hanging around for years now but never remember to use it.
Alan
8 May 2007, 09:57 #
Well there you go. Print it out and stick it to the fridge… :-)
Sarah
9 May 2007, 13:08 #
What I really want is a gunge machine for people who come to my door at dinner-time to try and sell me something.
“I’m not interested thank you”, and the door shut in their face just doesn’t convey the level of contempt I feel.
So, a gunge machine. Or a trapdoor that delivers them to the fiery pits of hell.
Alan
9 May 2007, 13:19 #
The gunge machine at least does not doom one to everlasting torment, and is thus to be preferred, I think.
Post-What Now moving to Christchurch, there may even be some lying idle and surplus to requirements at Avalon. Which is not far from you, really.
Brian
9 May 2007, 14:10 #
What drives me nuts is these idiots ALWAYS call either during hell hour, during dinner, or while I’m trying to put the kids to bed.
Sometimes they ask if they could ring back at a more convenient time – my usual response is “Sure – I’m free after 10pm”. “Sorry sir, we finish at 8”. One of these days I’m going to tell them that around 8pm on the 25th of May 2050 is looking pretty good.
One of these people had the misfortune to ask how I was – immediately after I’d just got home with 4 stroppy, tired hungry children to find various puddles & piles of steaming poo that our puppies had carefully deposited on the dining room floor…
I told him exactly how I was feeling at that time – and asked why on earth they insist on ringing at that time of day.
He hung up on me – I wonder why?
Apparantly in the US they have legislation enforcing a “Do not call” register. I would support something similar here!
Alan
9 May 2007, 20:09 #
I like that. “Call me back in 2050!”. Of course, they’d still call during tea time.
Stephen Judd
9 May 2007, 20:28 #
Unfortunately, we don’t have a Do Not Call list in New Zealand.
After Sky had phoned me one time too many I asked the caller how I might avoid further calls. It turns out that there is a list maintained by the Direct Marketing Association. You can fill in the form here: http://www.marketing.org.nz/cms/registration/2995
Of course, only association members will honour the list. If they feel like it.
What really rips my knickers is voicemail spam — we had several at our old number. Now we’ve moved, I’ve decided to ditch landline voicemail. In these days of cellphones anyone who really, really needs me has plenty of alternatives.
Brian
11 May 2007, 21:44 #
I’ve got the perfect solution to the Sky sales-droids… All you have to do is tell them that you don’t have a TV… This stops them dead in their tracks. The only possible remaining response is “Thank you sir – have a nice day/evening”.
Sometimes I string them along a bit. “Does your offer come with a free TV?”, “Why would I want to buy a service that I cannot use?” etc… It’s interesting watching their minds bend to the challenge.
I really don’t have a TV – don’t miss it either. (I can watch as many DVD’s as I like on the PC.)
Heck
14 May 2007, 22:12 #
About Brian’s last comment… I don’t own a TV and I don’t miss it either, at all. It’s been years that I have no use for it.
I don’t know how it is in New Zealand. Unfortunately at present I am in a country that charges you (and quite a bit) for owning and using a TV. What I’m about to tell goes for several European countries. I’ve heard some horror stories particularly from Germany, about the way their staff tries to enter your house to see if you have a TV or even to count how many.
Thing is, I received a few weeks ago a letter from a National TV Organization of some kind that supposedly regulates these things, officially requesting that I pay the two years fee that I owe (hundreds of euros) and reminding me that I could go to jail as it is considered a mandatory tax. Very friendly. And this because they have my data from the national telephone company (good privacy policies here) and therefore, if I have a phone (that I never use either, but I need the line for the internet) I surely MUST have a TV set.
I replied I’ve never had a TV in this country and never will, also that they’re invited to come and search for it any day without a warning…
But Brian, from my experience… People do not believe you. (: