Attention Telemarketers: I WIN (you f*ckers)
I win, mofos. My home phone is no more.
As much as I've enjoyed you interrupting me all hours of the day and night, I can not muster one more polite "I'm not interested and please take me off your list."
Truly, I wish I were the person with the hilarious comeback. The woman with the guts to use Seinfeld's, "Why don't you give me your home phone number and I'll call you back there tomorrow night." Or even ballsy enough for this. But I'm not. Generally I'm sympathetic to the fact that there's a person on the other end of the phone just trying to make a buck. Maybe a student. Or a stay-at-home mom. Or a divorcee who's trying to support her kids.
But then the final straw came last week, the guy who called at 10:13 at night to tell me about Dish Network's new whatever, waking the baby and forcing me to scream I DON'T KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS IN INDIA BUT IT'S AFTER 10 HERE AND YOU HAVE A LOT OF FUCKING NERVE.
At which point he scolded me. And told me I should be ashamed of myself. And I yelled back. and we both yelled over each other for a good minute about who should be more ashamed until I realized that I had stooped to the level of people who have arguments with strangers at Yahoo games. And I hung up.
So I'm done. Finished. Buh-bye land line. End of an era. It's been swell knowing you and I will certainly miss the confidence that I am not developing a brain tumor every time I dial my grandmother. But you know, brain tumor...telemarketers. When you weigh one against the other,
well, I've made my decision.
PS The People have spoken. I think that 08 is the year I campaign for, and with your help, WIN the worst blog of all time award. I appreciate the support and encouragement.
PPS A huge congrats to Greg on his brand newest baby girl. Although damn, how come everyone else gets a sleeper except me?