Handling Telemarketers
In the last few days, my cell phone has become telemarketer central.
I’m not entirely sure how this happened, but I think it has something to do with a pre-caffeine, I-know-it’s-too-good-to-be-true-but-I’m-feeling-overly-optimistic-today visit to a site that promised free iPads. My punishment for this lack of good judgment? Counting down the 31 days until I can start filing complaints with the Do Not Call Registry.
Fortunately, I treat my phone like I treat the front door – if I don’t know you, and I’m not expecting you, I don’t answer. Unfortunately, because ringing phones drive me mildly insane no matter where they are, I’d still put this in the “nuisance” category.
(One of these repeat callers is not a telemarketer, but rather the mail-order drug company I “have the privilege” of using under my new health insurance. Note to my health care company: It’s not a privilege if I don’t want to use the service but have to if I don’t want to pay the full-price of my medications. I really wish more people would check the dictionary before speaking. This information is not relevant, but it bugs me, so it gets included.)
Tired of the ever-ringing phone, I finally decided to answer one of these unidentified calls. My usual M.O. for telemarketers goes something like this:
“Hi, do you have time to listen to our great offer about X?”
“Sure, I’d love to,” I say.
Click.
I’m a hanger-upper. I don’t like to converse. I don’t like to argue. I just hang up. It’s cowardly, but it works. It’s either that or I tell them to call me back during a time I know I won’t be available. Like the title’s said for over five years now, it is what it is.
But, this time it was a little different.
“Hi, I’m calling from X* publishers.”
Publishers? In whatever delusional optimism I’ve been suffering from these past few days (like the free iPads that originally got me into this mess), for a few seconds I considered whether or not this might have something to do with my writing.
It didn’t.
“We’d like to inform you that you’ve been selected to receive a $1,000 gift certificate from our company. You can log on to our website and choose for a variety of home goods, clothes, shoes …”
“Uh-huh.”
“Now, you’re probably thinking that this sounds too good to be true.”
This would be exactly what I’m thinking, but now I’m kind of intrigued by what the catch is.
“In addition to this gift certificate that you can spend immediately, you’ll also receive a subscription to five magazines, including Woman’s Day … for the next 60 months.”
“I see,” I say. I wonder if it’s like Barnes & Noble, and I can cancel these subscriptions whenever I like and still keep the gift certificate. Again, for some reason that might have to do with my new vitamin supplement, I’ve gotten a whole lot more gullible lately.
“All you’ll have to day is pay us a weekly fee of $3.95 for the next 60 months so we can manage your magazine subscriptions.”
Despite my issues with calculus, I know enough about math to figure that $3.95 charge is about $208.00 per year. I also know that 60 months is five years, so we’ve just put the cost of this “great service” at $1,040.00. The $1,000 gift certificate immediately makes sense. Buy over-priced crap, and we’ll bleed your checking account slowly buy surely for the next five years.
For some reason though, this isn’t what upsets me. I expected a catch from a telemarketer. What bugs me is the “subscription management service.” Is there really anyone out there who feels overwhelmed by the process of subscribing to magazines? When do I renew? How do I do it? What day of the month will my issue arrive? There’s so much paper in my mailbox!
Yeah, I don’t think so. And if there is someone out there who needs that much help with their magazines, I’m more than willing to provide the same service for a mere $3.50 per week. (You’ll find my contact info under the About Me tab.) I imagine these are the same people who struggle with blankets and watering ferns, but bygones.
Since I’d had this conversation for too long to just hang up, I had to default to my “Why don’t you call me back later” excuse and have proceeded to avoid the same number ever since.
It’s been a good time, and I only have 30 more days to go …
* Clearly, the name has been changed.