Blogger Pisses Off Telemarketer-Hilarity Ensues
I love Telemarketers. I'm also a big jerk. I keep them on the telephone for as long as possible by feigning interest and asking stupid questions. The more time that they are on the phone with me, the less money they make. Like I said- I'm a jerk.
Over the past few weeks, I've been getting bunches of calls from some Indians informing me that I'm eligable for a government grant for anywhere from $3000 to $25,000. these guys are great. The first time that they called, I asked what I could use the money for. The guy said that I could only use the money for good.
"Like opening a coffee shop?"
"Yes, Like a coffee shop."
I told him that I didn't like coffee, but had been thinking of selling drugs to school children.
"No. you cannot sell drugs to children."
"But it makes more sense to sell to the kids- I could build my own market and end up getting a better return on my Grant money. Simple economics, friend."
"NO! You MUST use the money for GOOD! Not for evil!"
"How about opening a coffee shop? You know how to run an espresso machine?"
*click*
That was good fun. I pissed the guy off and I walked away with a warm fuzzy feeling.
This morning, I got another call. This time it was a young lady on the phone. I just kept on asking her to repeat herself and she finally hung up.
About an hour later, the phone rang again. some Indian guy telling me that I was going to get a grant... blah, blah, blah.
I kept asking him to repeat himself. I asked him to speak more slowly. the guy got fed up with me rather quickly. Robilee just happened to pick up the telephone at the exact moment when the guy snapped.
Here is what she heard:
Indian guy: Your Mother weel be fucked tonight.
Me: I'm sorry?
IG: I weel be coming to your house this evening and fucking your mother.
Me: You are going to have to speak more slowly.
IG: I weel be at you house tonight for fucking your mother and your wife.
Me: I can't understand what you are saying, man. You are gonna have to speak more clearly.
IG: Your daughter. Your beautiful daughter. I weel be fucking her tonight.
Me: My doctor? What about my doctor?
(This is when he went completely off his curry-eatin' nut)
IG: YOU LEEV AT (gives my address) AND I WEEL BE COMING OVER TONIGHT TO FUCK YOUR MOTHER YOUR WIFE AND YOUR DAUGHTER!
Me: That's my neighbor's house.
*click*
I can't wait for them to call back. I'm jotting ideas down on notecards and leaving them beside the telephone. Any suggestions?
Update:
Tomorrow, I've decided to record a murder scenereo with the lovely Miss Robilee. Yup- complete with gunshots. This will be played for the next overseas telemarketer. Is this illegal?
I'll cry wolf to the poor bastards. Overseas 911 calls are expensive, aren't they?
Over the past few weeks, I've been getting bunches of calls from some Indians informing me that I'm eligable for a government grant for anywhere from $3000 to $25,000. these guys are great. The first time that they called, I asked what I could use the money for. The guy said that I could only use the money for good.
"Like opening a coffee shop?"
"Yes, Like a coffee shop."
I told him that I didn't like coffee, but had been thinking of selling drugs to school children.
"No. you cannot sell drugs to children."
"But it makes more sense to sell to the kids- I could build my own market and end up getting a better return on my Grant money. Simple economics, friend."
"NO! You MUST use the money for GOOD! Not for evil!"
"How about opening a coffee shop? You know how to run an espresso machine?"
*click*
That was good fun. I pissed the guy off and I walked away with a warm fuzzy feeling.
This morning, I got another call. This time it was a young lady on the phone. I just kept on asking her to repeat herself and she finally hung up.
About an hour later, the phone rang again. some Indian guy telling me that I was going to get a grant... blah, blah, blah.
I kept asking him to repeat himself. I asked him to speak more slowly. the guy got fed up with me rather quickly. Robilee just happened to pick up the telephone at the exact moment when the guy snapped.
Here is what she heard:
Indian guy: Your Mother weel be fucked tonight.
Me: I'm sorry?
IG: I weel be coming to your house this evening and fucking your mother.
Me: You are going to have to speak more slowly.
IG: I weel be at you house tonight for fucking your mother and your wife.
Me: I can't understand what you are saying, man. You are gonna have to speak more clearly.
IG: Your daughter. Your beautiful daughter. I weel be fucking her tonight.
Me: My doctor? What about my doctor?
(This is when he went completely off his curry-eatin' nut)
IG: YOU LEEV AT (gives my address) AND I WEEL BE COMING OVER TONIGHT TO FUCK YOUR MOTHER YOUR WIFE AND YOUR DAUGHTER!
Me: That's my neighbor's house.
*click*
I can't wait for them to call back. I'm jotting ideas down on notecards and leaving them beside the telephone. Any suggestions?
Update:
Tomorrow, I've decided to record a murder scenereo with the lovely Miss Robilee. Yup- complete with gunshots. This will be played for the next overseas telemarketer. Is this illegal?
I'll cry wolf to the poor bastards. Overseas 911 calls are expensive, aren't they?
posted by Admin at 8:26 AM
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