I started getting telemarketer calls for a few days. I blocked one number, and they called again under a different one. They had the same script every single time. Finally, I’d had enough.

My phone’s ringtone is a duck’s quack. The very next time they called, I started quacking like a duck, over and over again. Then, when a live person came on the line:

Me: “Welcome to the dog farm!”

We have five dogs, and I live on a hay farm.

So far, so good; they have not called back. Sometimes a little crazy can go a long way!

My phone rings, and it’s a telemarketer. She asks if she can tell me about the insurance she’s selling. I tell her that it’s a waste of her time because I am a student and can barely pay my rent. She very politely asks if she can tell me about the offer shortly, anyway. That’s when I have a tiny lightbulb moment.

Me: “Excuse me. Tell me if I can’t ask this, but do you only get a commission, or do you get an hourly wage, too?”

She’s silent for a few seconds, and then she carefully replies, and I definitely can hear a smile in her voice.

Caller: “No commission, which is fine with me, but I’d love to tell you about the offer.”

I told her to go for it and take however long she liked because I wasn’t in a hurry, so she talked for quite a while I randomly said things like, “Oh, I see,” and, “Ah, interesting,” while doing schoolwork.

At the end of the call, she thanked me for listening, said she’d take me off their call list (that’s never happened before; usually, they just call again!), and wished me a nice day.

It was a tiny thing, but both of us left the interaction happy.

She was telling the truth; they never called me again.

I went to a client’s office to install some apps for a telemarketing platform they wanted on their server.

Me: “How can I put the apps on your server? Would a flash drive work?”

Client: “Sure, bring them on a flash drive and plug them into the external contractor’s PC so I can transfer them to the server where you’ll install them.”

I went there the next day and plugged in the flash drive. Nothing happened, so I went to [Client] and asked him about it.

Client: “Oh, security blocked all our USB ports and CD readers on our PCs. You may have to download it from the webpage, instead.”

The webpage was blocked, as well as almost every other website we tried to visit. 

Client: “That’s bad. Just send them to me through email.”

And that’s how [Client] and I learned that any email that was not from an address at “[Client] dot com” would have its attachments purged, no matter the file extension.

There’s security, and then there’s THIS.

While I don’t own my home, a relative of mine does, and I rent from them. We had some upgrades done to the house by a contractor, and my number was given as a point of contact.

Months after the work is done, I start receiving calls for my relative. Most of them go like this.

Caller: “Hello, I am looking for [Relative] regarding the property at [address].”

Me: “[Relative] is not at this number, and I’m not able to give out their information. I live at [address]. What is this regarding?”

Caller: “We are looking to buy properties in the area—”

Me: “I’m stopping you right there. I live in this house. I am not moving, the house is not being sold, and I don’t know anyone else selling property. Please stop calling.” 

Caller: “Okay, I’ll remove you from our system.”

I’ve gotten these calls at least twice a week for months now. No matter how many times I’m told they’ve put me on the do-not-call list, I keep getting calls. Finally, I’ve had enough.

Caller: “Hi, I’m calling about [address]—”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “I’m sorry?”

Me: “I am on the national do-not-call registry. I have told your company multiple times to stop calling. If you are calling for [address], I’m going to call the police for harassment. There is no reason to be calling me about this property.”

Caller: “Well—”

Me: “No ‘well’. This is the final call I will get from you guys, or I am getting the police involved. Got it?”

Caller: “…right. I’m adding you to our ‘not interested’ list. Goodbye.”

It’s been two weeks, but I haven’t gotten a call since.

As soon as my brother and I were old enough to be allowed to answer the phones at home, our parents impressed on us that we were under no circumstances to give details on why they couldn’t come to the phone (i.e., “She’s in the bathroom” or “he’s sleeping”) or admit if they weren’t in the house unless we were talking to a relative or very close friend; instead, the phrase we were to use was, “I’m sorry, he/she is not available right now. May I take a message?”

It was also very easy to tell when someone we were not supposed to be detailed or honest with was on the phone; our family name was pronounced identically to a school subject, but one of the vowels was different, so we frequently got (and get) people absolutely butchering the pronunciation if they didn’t know us.

We continued to answer the phone that way well into our adulthood, which led to this when I answered a call in June of 2010.

Me: “Hello?”

Telemarketer: “Hello! May I speak to Mr. [Dad’s First Name]… [mangled pronunciation of Our Surname]?”

Me: *Automatically* “I’m sorry, he’s not available. May I take a message?”

I suddenly realized what I had said and was about to correct myself when the telemarketer, obviously seeing right through my stock phrase, said brightly:

Telemarketer: “When will I be able to talk to him?”

Yes, that was the exact phrase she used. I didn’t exactly think before I answered, but I likely wouldn’t have been able to stop myself if I had.

Me: “Unless you have a medium on staff, the Second Coming of Christ. We buried him in January.” *Click*