Dear Persons. Though I appreciate that you have the tenacity and persistence of the most skilled and determined people of our generation, I would also like to think that after calling my home seven times a day, leaving no voicemail message, for over three months, you would pick up on the subtle hint that I will not talk to you. But no. You, o mighty who persevere, keep right on calling. Day in, day out. Morning. Noon. Night. Sometimes you have become so clever that you call me from different numbers, causing my caller ID to think it’s an important call.
On these occasions, I have answered my phone. You begin with the same, pre-recorded spiel, and I hang up in rage. The other day, when an actual human called to ask me if I was interested in signing up for Life Alert, I told that I had already fallen and broken every bone in my body. I asked where you were when I needed you? I began to sing emotional Barbara Streisand songs at you. You hung up in confusion, and I felt good about myself. For a week there were no phone calls, but then you began again. Calling while I try to watch “The Price is Right.” This is infuriating and will not stand. My time watching “The Price is Right” is precious and sacred.
What boggles me is that you assume that one day, after the daily barrage of phone calls, I will suddenly snap and say “YES! Here is my personal and banking information! PLEASE, RUIN MY LIFE!” I will sign up for all the medical things you wish me to sign up for, I will take that vacation, I will let you run a virus check on my windows infected computer—despite using a Macintosh. I will pay my debts to the IRS with iTunes gift cards. You and I both know that at no point I am going to concede and go along with your shenanigans. Yet, you call over and over and over.
I am sorry that you have to be a telemarketer unless you really enjoy your job, way to go! I won’t judge if your goal in life was to annoy the hell out of people on the telephone all day long. Congrats on achieving this special goal! I hope it brings you joy and spiritual fulfillment for all your days on this planet what we call Earth. However, stop calling. I’m never going to answer, or give in, or allow you the time of day when you ring. It’s especially shifty when you ring my caller ID saying you are some type of medical center within my area code. I have family members who are very sick, and I fear that this is news about one of them.
But no, it’s your being a turd. Does your mother know you do this? I should call her and tell her. I don’t have her number, but I’ll just call you every day until you give it to me. Sounds fair, right? Is “Jeopardy” your special show time? If so, I’ll call you during each and every Daily Double. In closing, because the time is short and I’m in those precious ten minutes away from “The Price is Right” coming on, I want to share with you some advice. This was a beautiful piece of advice shared on that great cartoon series “Freakazoid.” The advice was given by the title character, who informed a creepy man “Why don’t you leave us alone! Go have some coffee! With cream!”
Stop calling my house. If it didn’t work the first 995 times, what makes you think it will suddenly work the 996th time? See you next week—but not you who keeps calling.