Giving Business A Bad Name

| Working | October 1, 2014

(I have a very unusual name. A few years ago, I began receiving offers for platinum business credit cards in my junk mail. They’re addressed to my name, with “owner” on the following line. I have never owned a business nor held any relevant permits or licenses, so I find it very confusing. Eventually I get the following phone call.)

Telemarketer: “Hello, can I speak to the owner of [My Name], please?”

Me: “Uh… This is [My Name].”

Telemarketer: “Yes, but I am looking for the OWNER of [My Name]. Can I speak to the OWNER of [My Name], please?”

Me: “Wait, WHAT? You ARE talking to me. I’m [My Name].”

Telemarketer: “So you are the owner of [My Name]? I’m calling about [credit card offer]—”

(At this point I realize why I’d been getting that weird junk mail.)

Me: “Um, no. [My Name] is not a business. [My Name] is MY NAME. I am a PERSON. And I don’t have an owner because slavery is illegal, last I checked.”

Telemarketer: “This…isn’t a business?”

Me: “No. I am not a business.”

Telemarketer: “…[My Name] is… your… name?”

Me: “Yes. So how did I get on this list? And who in their right mind would call a business [My Name], anyway???:

Telemarketer: *rushed* “Thank you, sir. Have a nice day.” *click*

(I never got any more of those business credit card mailings again!)

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Either That Or ‘Rabbit’

| Working | September 23, 2014

Telemarketer: “What’s your name?”

Me: “Jessica.”

Telemarketer: “Oh, then you are Jessica Alba?”

Me: “No…”

Telemarketer: “So, what’s your last name?”

Me: “I don’t give that out.”

Telemarketer: “Okay, well, I need a last name for our records.”

Me: “Fine. Just put down ‘Alba.'”

Telemarketer: “Okay, then. So you are Jessica Alba?”

Me: “Sure, why not?”

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Telemarketers Have Breached The Wall

| Working | September 12, 2014

(My dad has just received a phone call from a telemarketer.)

Caller: “Do you require cavity wall insulation?”

Dad: “No, I don’t.”

Caller: “But wall cavities can make your house very cold and—”

Dad: “My walls don’t have cavities. I don’t need cavity wall insulation.”

Caller: “But…”

Dad: “I’ll tell you what. If I find any cavities in my walls, I promise I’ll fill them with gold and give you the leftovers.” *click*

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Death Of A Sales Pitch, Part 4

| Working | September 7, 2014

(It’s early in the morning before my college classes start. The phone rings as I am making my breakfast.)

Caller: “Hello. May I speak with Gloria?”

Me: *laughs* “Sure.”

(I proceed to hold the phone up to the mantle in our living room, where my grandmother’s ashes sit. I can hear him go off on his script, pause, and call ‘Ma’am?’ several times. I give him a break.)

Me: “Sir, my grandmother is dead. The only way you could possibly be unaware of that is if you’re selling something. My toast is done. I need to go.”

(I hung up on him and went back to my morning routine.)

 

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This Is Not Your True Calling

, | Working | July 24, 2014

(I have recently been assigned to a new job through a temp agency. I am given the address, the name of the company, and the supervisor. It is listed as ‘telephone operator’ and involvs taking orders.)

Supervisor: “Welcome to [Company]! We specialize in selling school supplies to various schools throughout the U.S. Today we’re selling class sets of dictionaries. When they order a set of 30 dictionaries, they’ll get a set of thesauruses for free.”

(The supervisor then shows me to my desk. I notice there is no computer; just a telephone and a stapled packet consisting of hundreds of schools and some basic information, including principals’ names, phone numbers, mailing addresses, and other info.)

Supervisor: “Here is your phone. You’ll call each of these numbers, and try to sell the class sets. Here, I’ll put your name on the board. You’ll call these numbers, make a sale, and when you do, we put a star by your name. You get 50 stars, you get a $100 bonus. Also, for us to confirm the sale, you must stand up and hold the receiver like this.”

(He shows me, with the mouthpiece end towards the mouth, and the earpiece pointed towards the floor. I snicker.)

Supervisor: “Oh, you think it’s funny, do you? Well, get on to it.”

(I look through the list. The first number is a high school in Texas. I begin dialing and keep getting an automatic messaging service. I remember I have a sandwich with me.)

Me: “Um, [Supervisor], where can I put my sandwich? It’s got meatballs and cheese and I don’t want it to spoil.”

Supervisor: “Oh, just keep it at your desk. You can eat it in between calls.”

Me: “So you’re saying you don’t have a break room?”

Supervisor: “Nope.”

Me: “Not even a fridge to keep food that may spoil from spoiling?”

Supervisor: “Nope. Just sit and make sales, and eat between sales.”

(I sit back down, and try again. Each number I call, I keep getting automated services. Finally, I decide I’ve had enough. I get up, grab my sandwich, and begin walking out the door.)

Supervisor: “Where are you going?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but sales is just not for me. [Temp Agency] never told me this was a sales/telemarketing job. They just had it listed as ‘phone operator.’ I thought I’d be taking calls, not making them.”

Supervisor: “Please come back. You can eat your sandwich first then make calls. I lied; we do have a fridge in the back.”

Me: “Sorry.”

(I walked right out of there after staying for only 30 minutes. I later called the temp agency and quit them, too!)

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