I’ve had to do professional cold calling before; you ring up a business that might have had an interest or left their details, and you try to sell them the new version of your product. It was awful. I hated it. I got abuse every day even from people who previously asked to be called back.

So, I am a little bit more patient when I get calls myself, but I get one that just can’t take the hint.

Salesman: “Can I speak to whoever orders your copier paper, please?”

I know this is a leadup to a sales pitch.

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t order paper. We print only a few pages a month.”

Salesman: “Yeah, right!”

He slams down the phone.

As I normally do, I make a note of his number in case he calls back. The same time the next day, I see his number pop up.

Salesman: “I have an appointment with the stationery manager.”

Me: “We don’t have a stationery manager, I am afraid.”

The salesman slams down the phone.

Two days later, the same number calls again.

Salesman: “Can I speak to the managing director, please?”

Me: “Of course. Who is calling, please, and what is this in relation to?”

Salesman: “He is expecting my call.”

I doubt this, but I put the salesman on hold and pop my head round the door of the manager, a quiet, very polite man, whom I have never seen angry. I explain and he tells me to put the call through. 

As I transfer the call, he motions me to rush back into his office.

Salesman: *On speakerphone* “I have been trying to reach you about your printing costs. Switching to us can save you thousands and cut waiting times in—”

Manager: “[My Name] has told you already we are not interested and don’t have a need for your company. Now, I am only going to tell you this once: f*** off!”

The salesman didn’t ring back after that!

This story is part of our Best Of August 2020 roundup!

Read the next Best Of August 2020 story!

Read the Best Of August 2020 roundup!

I am a British tourist visiting New York City. I get stopped in the street by a man giving away tickets to “The David Letterman Show.” Thinking this sounds interesting, I decide to get a ticket.

Man: “Okay, I just need to ask you one question.”

Me: “Sure.”

Man: “What colour is the announcer’s hair?”

I pause. I have no idea!

Me: *Disappointed* “I don’t know. The show isn’t broadcast in the UK so I haven’t a clue, I’m afraid.”

Man: “Oh, that’s a shame. Tell you what. I like you, so if you just take a look at that red car over there…”

Me: *Catching on, laughing* “Oh, could it possibly be red?”

Man: “Correct! See, I knew you knew it! Here’s your ticket for tonight’s show!”

Me: “Thanks!”

I went to the recording, expecting the guest to be some sportsman or soap star I’d never heard of, but the guest turned out to be Bruce Willis! So, I got to tease my friend back home who is a big fan of “Die Hard” that Bruce Willis had been in the same room as me! It was a very enjoyable show and I was so thankful to that man for helping me out!

This story is part of our New York City roundup!

Read the next New York City roundup story!

Read the New York City roundup!

There’s a solar energy company that’s been canvassing my neighborhood quite heavily and I’ve quickly become skeptical of the quality of people they hire. Here are some of the most recent interactions I’ve had.

A middle-aged woman comes to the door, all smiles and full of energy, seemingly well prepared and carrying a satchel and clipboard. Another person stands on the sidewalk a few feet away, watching her. She identifies herself and her company but I only catch part of what she says as I have hearing loss and my dogs are barking. I tell her I’m hard of hearing and can’t understand her, point out the no-soliciting sign that’s at eye level just above my doorbell, and close the storm door and start to shut the interior door. She keeps talking excitedly, perhaps expecting me to hear better through the storm door? I tell her I’m not interested, but she’s still talking as the door latch clicks.

Then, I’m visited by her polar opposite. I see a young man, slouching, looking at the ground and with his hands in the pockets of his baggy khakis as if trying to hold them up, sauntering slowly up the street. He approaches and rings the bell. I open the door and he begins to tiredly introduce himself — he reminds me of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh — I notice he’s wearing a shirt with the logo of the same company as the woman who I’d turned away just a couple of days before. I point to the sign and tell him, “I have a ‘No Soliciting’ sign and would appreciate it if you’d respect it.” Never once removing his hands from his pockets or looking up from his shoes, he nodded slightly and silently walked off up the street to intimidate his next victim with his lack of enthusiasm.

I’m at a large car boot sale with my family — think a market but it’s the general public that sells things they don’t want anymore, typically out the boot of their car. With us is my sister and her one- or two-year-old daughter who’s rather non-vocal. We are white. We’re not walking together and I’ve stopped at a black family’s stall to browse what they’ve got.

Niece: *Very loud and enthusiastic* “[Really derogatory term for black people]!”

I freeze and the black family freezes. People around us freeze.

Niece: *Just as loud and enthusiastic* “[Really derogatory term for black people]!”

I look over and my niece is pointing over at me and the black family. My sister has a look of horror and “Oh, f***, where did she learn that?!” on her face, which I imagine I do, too, and neither of us knows what to do.

My niece continues to be super happy and oblivious in the way only toddlers can manage.

Niece: “Hi, Aunty [really derogatory term for black people]!”

Realisation dawns.

Sister: “Do… Are you calling over to Aunty [My Name]?”

Niece: “Yeah, look, it’s Aunty [really derogatory term for black people]!”

I apologised to the black family, who thought it was hysterical, and I stayed with my sister and niece so as not to have a repeat. We later worked on the pronunciation of my name.

Due to a delay, I have to rush to make my connecting flight. I get to the gate right at the last possible minute. Just as I’m about to turn at the gate, someone stops me.

Saleslady: “Can I speak to you about travel insurance?”

Me: “They’re closing my gate in five minutes.”

Saleslady: “This will only take two minutes.”

This story was featured in our May 2020 roundup!

Click here to read the next story!

Click here to go back to the roundup!