Category: messing w/telemarketers
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moocher
I got a phone call from a moocher this morning. Stand on a street corner with a cardboard sign, or make the most of technology and call me on the phone; either way, you’re just a moocher if you’re begging me for money. It was so unusual for the phone to ring any time before Read.
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Down In Flames
Just as I was sitting down to lunch, the phone rang and I picked it up without screening it first. I’ve got to stop doing that. Wasn’t thinking this time. I was half daydreaming, my mind long-lost in the days when a ringing phone meant that somebody you knew was calling. Remember when? Actually, I Read.
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Dear Donkey
Dear Democratic National Committee: You’re pissing off the independent voters with your telemarketing script. Two of them, anyway. Mister McChuckletrousers called Our Humble O’Bode on behalf of the Democratic National Committee this afternoon and My Darling B picked up the phone on the second ring instead of screening the call as we normally do. We Read.
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creepy bot
I’d been sitting beside the phone for about an hour waiting for a phone call from the technician who’s supposed to come fix my dish washer. At some time this morning he promised to call and tell me when he’d be on the way. When the phone finally rang, it turned out to be a Read.
This Is Drivel 