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I don't get calls anymore from telemarketers trying to interest me in credit cards with extortionately high rates... thanks to the do-not-call list.
Mostly, that's good. It means I no longer have to ask, "You wasted my cellphone minutes to try to sell me THAT?"
On the other hand, it's sort of a bummer, because it took away one of my favorite forms of entertainment. Perhaps, in reading this, you will conclude that I am stark raving mad. Then again, maybe stark raving madness is the best response to a crazy world. You tell me.
Disclaimer: I used to be a telemarketer. For eight short weeks, I sold those coupon books that advertise free trips to hawaii and cruises (that you find out, when you read the fine print carefully, are not free) but have coupons from neighborhood businesses inside. What can I say? I was 16. I wanted the extra money. I got hung up on a lot; I got cussed at; once or twice, I actually got someone to buy a coupon book. But that experience stuck with me.
In any case, I figured that a calling telemarketer was fair game for my own personal entertainment, as long as I was polite about it. As a result, the calls went like this:
Telemarketer: Hello, (Canned speech starts..... canned speech continues....) So what name can I put on your new credit card?
Me: Hmm, what did you say the interest rate was on the card?
TM, sensing a live one: "22%."
Okay, anybody with more intelligence than a ripe avocado knows this is a very, very bad deal.... which is why they have to hire people to verbally try to sell you on the idea of having one. Fine.
Me: Twenty two percent! Let me ask you something. If I put $100 on this credit card, then paid the minimum payment on it until it was paid off, do you know how long that would take?
TM: Uh....
Me: SEVERAL YEARS. Now, do you know the definition of USURY?
TM, sensing that the conversation has taken an abrupt left turn: Uh....
Me: It's charging extremely high, extortionate rates of interest for money. Doesn't this credit card sound like that to you? So, what you have to ask yourself is, do you really belong in a job where you're trying to sell people a product that fits the definition of usury and can get them in serious financial trouble? Come on, I bet you'd make better money waiting tables, and at least that's honest employment. Have you thought about it?
At this point, some telemarketers get very offended. Some just laugh. One or two has said they're sorry to hear I feel that way, and hung up.
Berserk? Maybe. But deep down, you wish you'd thought of that.
Mostly, that's good. It means I no longer have to ask, "You wasted my cellphone minutes to try to sell me THAT?"
On the other hand, it's sort of a bummer, because it took away one of my favorite forms of entertainment. Perhaps, in reading this, you will conclude that I am stark raving mad. Then again, maybe stark raving madness is the best response to a crazy world. You tell me.
Disclaimer: I used to be a telemarketer. For eight short weeks, I sold those coupon books that advertise free trips to hawaii and cruises (that you find out, when you read the fine print carefully, are not free) but have coupons from neighborhood businesses inside. What can I say? I was 16. I wanted the extra money. I got hung up on a lot; I got cussed at; once or twice, I actually got someone to buy a coupon book. But that experience stuck with me.
In any case, I figured that a calling telemarketer was fair game for my own personal entertainment, as long as I was polite about it. As a result, the calls went like this:
Telemarketer: Hello, (Canned speech starts..... canned speech continues....) So what name can I put on your new credit card?
Me: Hmm, what did you say the interest rate was on the card?
TM, sensing a live one: "22%."
Okay, anybody with more intelligence than a ripe avocado knows this is a very, very bad deal.... which is why they have to hire people to verbally try to sell you on the idea of having one. Fine.
Me: Twenty two percent! Let me ask you something. If I put $100 on this credit card, then paid the minimum payment on it until it was paid off, do you know how long that would take?
TM: Uh....
Me: SEVERAL YEARS. Now, do you know the definition of USURY?
TM, sensing that the conversation has taken an abrupt left turn: Uh....
Me: It's charging extremely high, extortionate rates of interest for money. Doesn't this credit card sound like that to you? So, what you have to ask yourself is, do you really belong in a job where you're trying to sell people a product that fits the definition of usury and can get them in serious financial trouble? Come on, I bet you'd make better money waiting tables, and at least that's honest employment. Have you thought about it?
At this point, some telemarketers get very offended. Some just laugh. One or two has said they're sorry to hear I feel that way, and hung up.
Berserk? Maybe. But deep down, you wish you'd thought of that.
