Rants & Raves

Featured Rant:  Phone Solicitations

Phone solicitations.  We all hate them.  However, as someone who has tried to conduct cold-call research over the phone on occasion myself, I'm usually pretty accommodating of the little creeps.  But this month, spurred on by my recent contact with the Shiners,  I thought I'd take the opportunity to tell a couple of my own phone horror stories.

AT&T (aka, the Devil)

This is probably my most hated company right now.  Last year, my local carrier, Bell South, was offering a deal on unlimited long distance.  Now, hubby had just moved down here, and between us, our AT&T long distance bill was rivaling the national debt.  So, since AT&T was offering no similar unlimited package, we switched to the Bell South deal, thereby consolidating our local and long distance services.  We've been happy with Bell South.

Just a few days later, the calls started.  "You recently switched from AT&T.  May I ask why?"  "No, you may not," I replied.  I really didn't think it was any of their business, and I didn't have time to hear their "come home to AT&T" sales pitch (I had endured something similar when I switched from SUNCOM to CINGULAR wireless).  So, politely (yes, POLITELY), I told them no, and ended the call. 

Two days later, they called back.  Same question.  Same response. "Please don't call again."  They DID call again.  Every other day for two months with the same question.  Finally, I found myself yelling at the poor salesman, "WHY WON'T YOU PEOPLE LEAVE US ALONE????"  Then I just hung up.  This particular salesman, Lord love him, called me immediately back and explained that I had to "complete an exit survey" before I could be removed from his calling list.  Sigh.  None of the others had told me that.  I answers a few questions about the quality of AT&T's service and never heard from them again.  Evildoers.

The Shriners (oh, the gall . . .)

While I don't think the Shriners are Evidoers on the scale of AT&T, they too, are a little much to stomach.  The Shriner rep called me at 10:00 in the morning.  Could I help send kids to the circus?  He would send me an information packet that "in no way obligated me."  Sure, I said.  I gave him my campus address.  I don't like giving out my home address to strangers who call me on the phone.  "Someone will call back and verify this information momentarily," he says.  An odd quality control measure, I thought, but okay.  Indeed someone called.  "The address you gave is not the address we have on file for you," she said.  (If you had my address on file anyway, I think, why did you ask?  I think).  "That's my campus address," I reply, "I prefer to receive information there."  Okay.  No problem.  End of story,  right?

Wrong.  The "information" packet comes.  According to the packet, I have pledged to buy two tickets to the Shriners circus to support the kids.  What kids?  I don't know.  It doesn't say.  Now, the astute among you my notice that the "no obligation packet" has magically turned into a "generous pledge" with no help from me.  I thought this was a little odd myself, but hey, I'm not so hard up that I can't shell out $16 for a couple of mystery kids to see the circus.  I mail the check.

A week or so later, I get a call.  It's Shriners.  They want to know where my pledge is.  (Yes, now they're hounding me to send in a pledge that I technically never made!)  I tell them the check's in the mail.  "When did you send it?"  they ask.  WHEN DID I SEND IT?!?!?!  They commit me to a pledge I didn't make, and then they don't believe me when I tell them I mailed the money back to them????  Arg....  I was nice.  Very nice.  I got out my checkbook.  I told them the check date.  They thanked me and hung up.  Two days later, the check cleared my account.

Sheesh.  I know they need money, but non-profit aggression is getting out of hand.

Not a solicitation (but down right scary)

Story number three is not one of phone solicitation, but it scared me half to death, so I'll include it.  One afternoon about five thirty, the phone rang as I was stepping out of the shower.  I ran to the phone and answered. 

"Hey, whatcha doin?" the male caller said.  "I'm fine," I replied, looking at my caller ID "but I'm not sure who this is." 

"You're not sure who I am??"  he responds, irritated.  "No," I said, quite cheerily.  "I think you have the wrong number." 

"You don't know who I am!" he screams.  "Well,  YOU WILL!"  He hangs up. 

Creepy.  I was looking over my shoulder for a stalker for weeks.

Thinking on my feet, I saved the caller's number in my caller ID system (note to cops if I disappear).  I did not call the number back.  I didn't want the creep getting MY phone number if it had been a random dial!

All of these stories make me want to throw out my phone and communicate with everyone over the internet.  But then, with all of the spam, hackers, and other criminals populating the information superhighway these days, that option is not much better.  Sigh. . . will we ever be safe from annoyance and harassment again?