I’m not a fan of Christmas, if you can’t tell. It’s not that I have a problem with the holiday itself. I wish Jesus a very happy birthday – it’s just that I’m not a fan of what goes with it. I hate decorating the tree, hat shopping for presents, hate wrapping presents, and I especially don’t like receiving presents in front of people. There’s nothing like getting a super-soaker in the dead of winter while over the age of 25, and having to pretend it was a good idea. Maybe I’d change my mind if I had kids, but that isn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Anyhow, enough humbugging from me.
I talked about these in my last/first entry, so I decided to dig up an archived story from my old blog. Later, I’ll have to explain who the other people that I talk about are so it’s less confusing, but this one doesn’t involve anyone but me and a telemarketer:
[archive] Fun with telemarketers
Sat Oct 29, 2005 4:22 pm
[ 
Mood: Amused ]
Registered Users
The phone rang and I saw the caller ID showing a telemarketing call from Florida. I was bored, so I picked up and said hi. The woman on the other line then asked for the “Mildred” residence, or something. I said I was sorry and that she had the wrong number.
“Oh – this isn’t the Mildred residence?”
“Not even close.”
“Oh – so how’re you doing?!?”
…
“I’m doing…good. How are you?”
“I’m great! What’s your name?”
“…Steve. (not even close)”
“Well hi Steve! I am calling today on behalf of Westgate vactions and was wond…”
I then cut her off with, “So what are you wearing?”
“…well, I’m wearing dress clothes and I look all corporate!”
“That sounds sex-ay. Am I to understand that you’ll be coming along with me on this vacation?”
“Well, uh…I can’t promise THAT, but I think you’ll see…”
“Well what fun is that? You sound pretty cute.”
She rolled with it for a while, and then asked me what I did.
“I sell drugs.”
“Oh really? Are you serious?”
“Oh yeah – it’s really quite lucrative, too. If you ever need anything, you just give me a ring. You know the number.”
“Are these pharmaceutical drugs?”
“Oh no – this is the good stuff that you can’t get over a counter.”
“Oh, I see (laughter). So how old are you, Steve? Between 35 and 60?”
“Oh, I never tell my age. That would hurt business. A lot of my clients are younger, so them knowing my true age might shy them away or make them think I was a cop.”
“Oh, well ok then.”
She then asked if I was a writer or something creative, as she was impressed with how the conversation was going. I broke character for a bit, laughed along with her, and we chatted for 3 minutes. Stuff about where she’s travelled, and whatnot. I really have no idea what exactly, but I do know that she explained to me how someone broke her heart, and that she built up walls now.
I said, “well, at some point you have to start trusting again. Hopefully the right guy will come around for you. Or girl.”
“OH! You’re bad!”
“Well, you know – I didn’t want to discriminate. Different lifestyles and all. You do whatever and whoever you choose.”
She then asked me if I was a singer or something. I have no idea why. I told her that I used to be able to, but I got worse. She then told me she liked to sing.
“So let’s hear it.”
“What?”
“You singing. Let me hear a little bit.”
“Well, ok but I have to be quiet so that people around me don’t hear.”
She then sang into the phone for a good 30 seconds. It was at this point where the absurdity of the conversation hit me, and I hunched over and tried not to let my muffled laughter be heard. She finished up, and I complimented her.
“That was really good. Let me guess – you’re female, you sing, and you’re in Florida – did you try out for American Idol?”
She denied doing so, and lamented about today’s singers being more flash than substance. Somehow she got on the topic of religion and asked about me.
I said, “My religion is kinda cool. We’re really laid-back except on Sundays. That’s the day we’re not allowed to use technology in any form. We’re kinda selectively Amish.”
I could hear the conflict in her voice, not knowing if I was full of shit or not. “Oh…that’s interesting. No technology?”
“Nope – good thing you called me on a Friday, huh? No phones, computers, or anything. Or hotdogs.”
“Well, that sounds…nice. I guess you’d have to use pen and paper, huh?”
“Nah – we’re not even allowed to use that. We’re talking feather and inkwell.”
“What is your religion called?”
“Um….Neo-amishism.”
“Oh…well, it sounds nice.”
“Oh, it sure is. Sure, they frown a little on my drug-dealing, but they’re mostly cool with it as long as I don’t sell inside the church anymore. On Sundays, we ride around on horseback and go door-to-door handing out pamphlets. It’s really spiritual and shit.”
“Well, it sounds really fun, but let me give you this num…”
“Yeah – you’d love it. You ought to join – do you own a poncho?”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
After all that, I finally let her recite the website address which I promptly forgot. She thanked me for a good time, and hung up. Just thought I’d share.
