Archive for the Those Damn Solicitors Category

Telemarketers + Boredom = Yusuki Wang

Posted in Bored out of my friggin mind, friggin hilarious, Lame and stupid crap, Those Damn Solicitors on August 12, 2008 by catscratch

So, we get bombarded with uberous amounts of telemarketing calls every day at the office.

I’m usually not very nice to these poor people.

I know they are just doing their job, but for fuck sake… Go back to school, get a degree and get a real job not bothering the people who already have a real job.

It’s pretty simple.  But…

Some days I’m bored with work, and porn *snicker*,  and Pogo games, and blogging,  so I may entertain a telemarketer for a few minutes if what they say off the bat is interesting enough to make me release the mouse and stop popping the balloons hanging on my monitor.

Mind you, I never know if it’s my boss calling from Germany, so I always, ALWAYS answer the phone in an oh-so-pleasant voice… until I find out who it is.

“Good Morning, how may I help you?” Note how pleasant that is.

“Hello, Ma’am. This is Sherri. I’m calling from Fairfield with a wonderful offer that we thought you may be interested in.”

I say, “Oh, really? What kind of offer do you have there, Sherri?”

Sherri goes on her schpeeeeel now:
“Well, we are calling to offer to individuals who have been pre-qualified in your area, the opportunity to come stay for a week at one of our several resorts, your choice. All you have to do is come and listen to a presentation about the property and take a tour. We do have a small fee to cover taxes and meals, but the stay itself if complimentary. What do you think?”

I decided what the fuck. I’m bored. I’ll play along.

So I say “Can I ask you to hold one sec.” 

I need to get OG to play along.  I run into Olga’s office and tell her the story and she’s all ready to play along. So, I get back on the phone.

I pick the phone back up and start off….
“Thanks, Sherri. I’m glad you held for me, I’d like to consider signing up. I could use a vacation. You said there is no obligation?”

Sherri says, “No. No obligation at all.”

I ask, “How much is this fee you were talking about.”

Sherri says, “Only $275.00 and you can even put it on your Visa or Mastercard.”

I say, “I can put it on a credit card? But I don’t have a credit card. My partner keeps them and she won’t let me charge anything. Let me put her on the phone.”

Olga gets on the phone, “Hello?”

Sherri: “Hi. I’m Sherri from Fairfield.”

Olga: “What is this deal that you have TheDiva so excited about that she wants the credit card right now?”

Sherri goes through her whole schpeeeeel again.

Olga says, “Well, I don’t think we are interested. I do not want to get tied up in a timeshare type deal and I know all about this kind of scam. Since we aren’t married we aren’t qualified for any kind of couple deals or anything.”

Sherri: “Can you put Rhonda back on the phone?”

Olga: “Well, it would be pointless to put her back on the phone since she has no money and no credit cards and since she won’t do anything without my permission. Have a nice day now, ok?”

At least if Sherri was on an hourly wage, she made her money honestly that day.

Other telemarketers that are fun to jerk around are the ones that call occassionally to “check on the make and model of the office copier”.  Their scam is to get you to tell them the make/model of the copier and then they will, in turn, ship you toner that you didn’t want and invoice you.

Then if you don’t pay the invoice they try to send you to collections. 

I have a page from the Xerox catalog.  The most Mac copier you’d ever see.  With ass expensive toner.

 So, I tell them the Xerox copier and they tell me they will go ahead and ship it.  To who’s attention shall they ship?

I always tell them to ship to Yu-Suki Wang.  That way when they try to make us pay for the stock of toner we have just sitting back there, we can deny, deny, deny.  We don’t have that copier, nor do we have an employee by that name.

Come on, folks… it’s all in fun.


On a happy note.  School has FINALLY started back up and those teenagers in my house are officially Seniors!  Go teenagers!  You will be graduated and have the ability to get out and rul the world on  your own like you keep spouting about in less than one  year.  I wish you luck.  If you need me, you’ll be able to reach me through OG, she’ll have a phone number to my secret Catscratch location.

Oh, I’m super dooper excited over here.  My next post will be the BIG 200.

I can’t believe I’ve managed to find so much shit to spew forth about.

Cheerio, people!


A Bad Joke & A Rant About Telemarketing Asshats

Posted in Asshats, sucky customer service, Those Damn Solicitors on March 23, 2008 by catscratch

I am an office manager for an small biomedical company in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. We are not a million dollar baby. We are not listed as one of the top companies in the Fortune 500. We are of no consequence to anyone, really. That is, anyone but those damn telemarketers, who seem to call more than our customers do. Until the past two days, the last statement was strictly a sarcastic theory.

I have made it my goal in life to give every telemarketer that calls our office so much shit, that they will beg the powers that be to take our multiple phone numbers off of the automated speedy dialer set up they utilize.

I have found out that the low level asshat that initiates this variety of phone call is generally a mega wuss. Scary Diva puts fear in them and they automatically put me through to a supervisor. Which is fine by me, that’s who I’d prefer to bitch at anyway.

The typical call is as follows:

Asshat: Hello, ma’am. I am calling today on behalf of BellSouth.

Me: You’re calling on behalf of BellSouth? Are you BellSouth or some poor schmuck hired by BellSouth to take this ass whipping?

Asshat: We are contracted by BellSouth to contact existing customers with this exciting..

Me: Let me guess, an exciting new plan?

Asshat: Yes, ma’am. We are…

Me: Stop right there. What is the name of your company?

Asshat: (will name off whatever company of the day is)

Me: And what is your name, please?

Asshat: I can not disclose my name.

Me: You can’t disclose your name? Where is your supervisor?

Asshat: I don’t understand, ma’am.

Me: Your supervisor, your boss. Please put them on the phone.

Asshat: One moment.

Asshat supervisor: I understand there is a problem here?

Me: You could call it that. When I get more calls a day from people like you bogging down my phone lines than I do from my customers, that is a major problem for me.

Assshat supervisor: Let me explain why…

Me: No! Let me explain to you. What is YOUR name. I have your company name.

Asshat supervisor: (rambles off a name)

Me: Okay. Now, I would like this to be recorded. Am I being recorded for quality and training purposes, pal?

Asshat supervisor: Yes, ma’am.

Me: Then understand this. I am keeping your name, the name of your company, the time and date that I spoke with you. I would like you to remove our phone numbers from your database. I would like to cease communication from your company. Do you understand?

Asshat supervisor: Yes. We will remove you immediately.

Me: Great. Because we report companies that do not remove us from their call lists/databases after we request it. I now have everything I need to report your company to the FCC for furthering communications after being asked to stop.

So, the story goes. Of course, the FCC doesn’t do shit for a body. You call, register a complaint, and nothing happens. But, it sure is alot of fun to harass the shit out of someone who’s job it is to harass the shit out of me.

The top of my “I HATE THESE GUYS” list is Bell South, followed ever so closely by Birch Telecom.

I also despise all of these shipping companies who try to out screw each other for the tidbit of business they might be able to get. Of which, my response is always, “If I’m gonna get screwed by a freight company, I’m sticking with UPS because our driver is freakin hot. But thank you for calling and trying to win my business! If you’d like to send some hot drivers over here for inspection, I might consider giving you my business, but I warn you. Our UPS guy will be hard to beat.”

Have a great dessert day, pal.

Telemarketer – The Tables Are Turned

Posted in Asshats, sucky customer service, Those Damn Solicitors on November 14, 2007 by catscratch

** The name of the company in question has been changed.

Ok, kids. I have been doing my bestest trying to be nicer to people. This has been going on for some time now. However, nothing gets the better of me than those annoying ass automated phone calls from Joe Solicitor. Or the calls you get from Sally Salesperson where they ask for you by first name and try to act like an acquaintance… Dayum. I thought that shit was borderline illegal on a harassment level.

Anyway, today I turned the tables. I got an automated call from “Kelly”. She was offering us the moon and stars and possibly the sun too if we would “press one to stay on the line for a representitive”.

So, I press one. I hold for a brief 20 seconds or so, expecting “Kelly” will pick up personally and explain to me this great pitch of hers. A pitch I intended to let her waste her time giving before asking to have all of our business numbers removed from her bullshit auto-dial system.

All that went out the window, when rather than “Kelly”, some deep voiced, crankity, old british dude picked up.

“You’re not Kelly.” I say to him, agast that the wool was pulled over my eyes.

“No, that was a recording. Are you interested in learning more.” He blurts out in harsh monotone.

“Uh. No. Actually. I’m really, really tired of you people calling us and would like you to remove our number from your database.”

“Done.” He said as he disconnects my call.


God bless *69. I annoy the shit out of many-a-telemarketer when I can actually get my hands on the number they called from.

So I dial *69 and get the number. I press each digit and the little british weasel that hung up on me answered.

**”First Asshat” He answers.

“Yah. I was connected to you to be removed from your call list and you hung up on me.” I lament.

“Well, I didn’t hang up, but you have been removed.” He sneers.

“How the hell am I removed when you only called one of our numerous numbers, sir? Can you explain that? Do you have a list with every company that notes every number within that company?”

I’m ready to fight with him by this time.

“We have them.” He hangs up again.

So, me (being me), I dial them up again.

“First Asshat” It was some uptight manly sounding british woman this time.

“I’m calling to be removed from your call list.”

“Yes, that’s why I answered, I heard the conversation with my employee.” She says.

“It’s pretty simple. Remove all of our numbers, now, or I will call you 500 times a day until Jesus comes back.” I tell her.

“They will be removed.” She retorts as SHE hangs up on me.

Needless to say, I have spent the last hour randomly picking up the phone, dialing the number and saying…

“Hi it’s me. Only XXX number of the promised calls left today.”

I kind of wonder if I can get in trouble for it. If anybody would like to have the same big ball of fun as I am, and help me annoy the shit out of these people, I’d be glad to share the phone number with ya.

Happy dialing!

The Rose Peddler

Posted in Those Damn Solicitors on September 21, 2007 by catscratch

We had just sat down to have our mid-day bread breaking when a good-old boy, who apparently either can’t read or just doesn’t give a shit about the no-soliciting sign on the door cruised in. I figure it’s the latter, as it is posted on our door in plain sight where one would grab the handle and pull the door.

So, there we are. I wish my delicious Chicken Caesar Salad and OG with her ethinic beet soup. We are about to give thanks and partake, when this asshole walks in.

”Did you miss me?” He asks as he swaggers our way, booty in hand.

“Uh, no. It’s been about a year though.” OG says.

He sets his goods, dozens of long stem roses (which were mighty pretty to be sure) on our lunch table.

“Remember how much they are?” He winks at OG as she was the one who actually paid notice to his punk ass interupting our bread breaking.

“No,” she says, “but it doesn’t matter. We don’t want any anyway.”

Then I chime in, “You can donate some for my bachelorette party tonight.”

Of which he offers congrats, but ignores the donation request… dick.

“Well, you could buy some to toss at your stripper.” He says trying to appeal to my wild side.

“I ain’t got no stripper lined up, dude.” I reply, agast that he would even dream up that sales pitch.

“Mother or mother-in-law you could get some for?” he’s getting desparate.

So I decide to go in for the kill.

“Look guy, I’ll be completely honest. I’m not buying any because I am saving every penny to get balls out drunk tonight and if I buy your roses… that, my friend, will cut into my drinking budget.”

Have a great desert day, pal.