Monday, February 6, 2012

I Choose To Fight Fire with Fibs

This morning I yelled at a phone solicitor.

I mean really yelled.

Like, "no, I am not interested, and do NOT CALL ME AGAIN!!!

I guess I should have just hung up before it got to that point, but I was trying to be polite.

Talk about back-fire.

At first I was flattered that he would take such pains in learning about my very specific personal mortgage needs, study out how he could help little ol' me, and then search out my number to give me the good news that he could actually REDUCE it! Talk about luck! And I wasn't even looking to reduce it! It was like he almost read my mind.

I felt so special.

Except that he asked for the wrong woman. I think. One can never tell when the salesman is obviously not an English-is-my-native-language kind of guy.

When I told him that nobody by that name lives here, and that he had the wrong phone number (that's my go-to get-off-the-phone-quick scheme. For some reason no one can pronounce our names, so it's not really a lie...right?), he confirmed my number.

And then added an, "Anyway..."

Which rubbed me wrong(er).

And, well, you know how the story ends.

I should have told him up front that we have no mortgage. That we rent. That we live in a tent.


I need to be better prepared next time.

Which is why I have compiled a list of "excuses" to use when confronted by unsolicited solicitation:

Meat Sales: Oh, darn. We are vegetarians. And highly allergic to fish. Unless you are having a 75% off sale, in which case, I might as well buy some for my carnivorous neighbors.

Encyclopedias: Nope, we ain't larned to reed jes yet. Or, we already bought them from the last salesman with a fake English accent, thanks anyway. Or, we google.

Magazines: (say quickly, as I close the door, cause those guys are almost always meth heads looking to kill a nice little unassuming family) I hate magazines. I don't have time to read them. I am headed to the ER, cause I just cut my finger off, so I have to go now. Bye. (cause man, those guys will NOT take no for an answer. you literally have to get in your car and drive away. and even then, they will run behind you for a couple blocks. must be willing to fully commit and cut off your finger if necessary)(also, while we're on this subject, why would anyone think that I care about sending them to Australia? I am far more interested in sending myself to...well, anywhere. If I don't know you, and you are creepy, I don't really care if you get the vacation of a lifetime. In fact, I hope you don't.)

Children's Books: I have all the books I want. Or no children. And I don't like other people's children, either.

Home Security: I have a gun. And a husband...with ten guns. And a sword. And we're moving next month. And we just moved in last month, so no, I don't know ANY of my neighbors.

Vacuum: Hardwood floors. And we don't believe in dust mites. For religious reasons.

Cable: My brother in-law works for dish, so we get it for $5/month. Can you beat that? Then good day. (This used to actually be the case for us, and it worked like a charm when cable companies called to harass me)

2-For-1 Punch Cards: I don't live here. I am just the babysitter.

Let me know what possible encounter I am missing.

Cause I don't want to be caught unawares.


The United Statements of Merica said...

haha! I loved all you're excuses. especially about those dang magazine selling meth heads. You make a very good point about sending yourself before a soliciter on vacation. We have had ONE soliciter since moving here (which we found out happened to be an lds rm.. go figure, he couldn't be bothered by obsticles) and It might have something to do with our driveway, so there's another tactic for you. have your mailbox at the top of a mountain and your house at the bottom.

Mardee Rae said...

I like mer's, it's a catch-all escape! How about those natural cleaners sales guys? I have literally had to drive away from one of them. Like, I'm loading my screaming babies into carseats, obviously in a hurry and waaay overworked, and he is still trying to show me how cleaner-than-clean my back window is. Get outta my dang way or YOU'LL be all over that back window, buddy.

Stephanie said...

No one can say our last name either, but they also got smart and started asking for me by first name. I love caller-id, but sometimes still get a solicitor, so, thanks for the ideas.

Michelle said...

I remember in High School I kept getting calls from a military recruiter and I finally told him that all I wanted to do when I grow up is get married, stay at home and have 10 babies - lol! They left me alone after that. Now the hubster sends me to the door to "be mean" to the sales person.