See this story at BrooklynDaily.com.
By Joanna DelBuono
Brooklyn Daily
It’s been three long years and countless columns, but here it is again — Writers’ Block rearing its ugly head. As I sit at my desk, AKA, the kitchen table, an idea for a column is blocked tighter than being encased in quickcrete.
I think all is lost and about to call my dear editor and beg for an extension. Okay, “dear” and “beg” may be stretching it a bit, but he is a nice guy, and strongly asking is sort of like begging — but I digress.
Anyway, as my fingers are punching in his number to request that oh-so-rare extension, the phone suddenly rings with an incoming call, the light bulb pops on, and an idea for this column springs forth quicker than lava and ash out of Mount Pinatubo.
Telemarketing calls. That’s right, all those calls and other general annoyances involving Mr. Bell’s invention.
Pesky invasive telemarketers who proliferate like weeds in an untended garden and call at the most inappropriate times — during dinner, an episode of my favorite TV show, or when my daughter is out and any ring of the phone makes me jump out of my skin. Every part of my day.
Okay in this case, the call helped me figure out a column, but it was irritating nevertheless.
The most annoying is the taped call — how can you vent on a canned voice I ask? We all know it, we have all gotten the call. It’s the one with the five-second delay allowing the computer to generate the best time for the call, if it is a mechanical voice, you know machines stick together, and what the house’s demographics are.
There you are saying, “Hello, hello,” thinking that your phone is out of order or someone is pranking you, and then you hear the metallic ping and the voice devoid of humanity instructing, “Don’t Hang Up, this is not a sales call.” Of course it’s a sales call — because it immediately proceeds to try and sell you something.
When I get a human on the other end I say, “Take me off the list, don’t call here again, not interested.” This obviously does not work, because after two or three days the phone rings again and again I’m asked for my opinion, my money, or the state of my finances.
Some have offered free trips to Ulan Bator, or even asking my invaluable assistance in figuring out why bees are leaving the nest — what am I, an apiarist? Or asking how many times have I used (fill in the brand) of tooth paste, and other nonsense questions that make me angrier than a hornet sprayed with a hose.
Another repeated scam advises it’s not too late to take advantage of the president’s plan to re-finance your home, or how can you save on credit card debt. Hello, don’t use credit, that’s how!
Not for Nuthin™, but no matter how many times I hang up on “Don’t’ hang up,” demand removal from the list, or blow a whistle (okay juvenile, but I’ve done it, and I’m not ashamed either), the calls just keep on coming. So I’m sending out a message over the lines one last time, “Stop already, it is enough — but thanks for the column idea.”
Follow me on Twitter @JDelBuono.