“Rachel from Cardholder Services” did not heed my warning. Rachel is now on my Wood Chipper List. That’s a technical term that describes a list I’ve made of people who will be….gently corrected…once I have taken over.
I used to be nice, or at least reasonably polite, with people who cold-call the house to beg for donations or sell me something. These days, as I am older and a bit more cranky, I no longer make an effort at civility. I don’t give a shit who you are or what you are selling–call my number uninvited and try to get money from me for whatever reason, I will respond to you wasting my time by being as harsh with you as the situation warrants. And that goes doubly if you try to talk over me, interrupt me, or refuse to take my first “NO” for an answer.
Among my major pet peeves are guilt trip donation calls for the Orphaned Unborn State Trooper Babies Association (“But they keep you SAFE, sir.”), calls from the aforementioned “Rachel” (a known scam operation), political polls (ESPECIALLY the heavily leading ones where the questions are along the lines of “Were you aware of the fact that Candidate Thatguy cannot conclusively prove that he doesn’t eat foil-wrapped babies for dinner?”), and any sort of robocall that asks me to hold for a person. If I don’t hang up right away, defensive phone tactics include talking to them in irate German, asking them in a breathy voice what they are wearing (male and female alike), asking them to “hold on” and then putting the phone aside for an hour, or telling them (in a bad pseudo-Russian accent) that they’ve reached the embassy of the Kingdom of Upper Cryogenica, and would they mind holding while the ambassador finishes his karaoke session with the Sultan of Absurdistan?
Spammers. I swear, if it wasn’t for the shitty cell reception here at Castle Frostbite, I would have ditched the landline years ago.