Y’all know how much I love fishing, right? It’s my happy place. It’s where I go after a week like the one that just passed me by. You know the week I’m talking about. The week where everything and everyone in your home has gone stark, raving mad and act like you is the village idiot. Your daughter’s dating a guy on probation, your wife can’t get into her XXXL pants and wants to go to Goodwill, your son decides to join the Peace Corps, your best John Deere hat fell off while on the bush hog, and the dog bit the neighbor. Stuff like that.
So, usually what do I do? I get my junk together, hook up the boat, grab a 12-pack (of ginger ale), and head to the high seas. Problem is the weather report in Costa Rica ain’t lookin’ too friendly. Guess I’ll just have to go to Lake Oconee. Come to find out part of the lake is frozen over from the past weeks of two degrees Celsius (or Centigrade). Whichever scale you use, it’s been dang cold.
The worst part of my week was sitting down to supper and the phone rings. It’s not Mom or Dad, your brother or sister, not even your long lost cousin. Nope, it’s one of them dad-blamed, &*%#@ telemarketers. And they weren’t fishing. They were phishing. I just hung up. But then, my devious mind began to deviate. That’s something I’m really, really good at. Just ask around.
So, since I couldn’t go fishing, I decided to do have some phun with these phishermen. As I’ve received more and more of these calls lately, I now have a plethora of strategies that are field-tested and 100 percent guaranteed to work. Do not attempt any of these stunts as they can lead to serious injury. No telemarketers were harmed in the testing of these responses.
After the typical introduction of hello’s and how are you doing’s, there are several levels I have delved into. My caller ID usually tips me off, but if they ask for Robert Richardson, it’s a dead giveaway. Hardly anyone calls me Robert even though it’s my first name. I’m called Robert Alan, Alan by some family members, or Coach. My mind goes into high gear and DEFCON Four right away. It’s becoming an art form. Here are a few I’ve used or am planning on using.
Me: Can you repeat that please? I’m hard of hearing. Set the phone down. Repeat…
Me: Oh, My Gosh! It’s done, but there’s blood everywhere. And hang up.
Me: The cops just drove up. Hide the drugs. And hang up.
Me: Where’s my gun. I’m gonna kill that boy. And, again hang up.
Me: (In my loudest and best impersonation of a TV evangelist) “Have you accepted “Jeee-zussss-uh” as your Lord and personal savior?” I then start quoting John 3:16 or read from Revelations in the same voice.
Me: Oh, no. I left the oven on. Can you wait a second? I then put the phone in front of the TV and let them listen to Judge Judy.
Me: Honey, I thought I told you to get naked.
Me: Just give the phone to your little toddler who loves to talk on the phone. Let the fun begin!
Me: Interrupt the telemarketer’s sales pitch with your best, “Do I have a deal for you.” You can then pitch to them Amway, floating sunglasses, glass siding, or whatever product you can think up.
Me: Will you marry me?
Me: Hello. (pause while they start) I’m sorry we can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message. Beeeeeeep.”
Me: It’s funny you called. I was just thinking to myself, ‘Self, why don’t you just do it. To my amazement, self replied to go for it so me and myself will discuss it and we’ll get back to you.’
Me: If they ask, “How are you today?” I answer, “I’m so glad you asked. No one really seems to care that I’ve had all these problems. My arthritis is killing me, but I love these pain killers they give me. In fact I’m high as a kite right now. My dog just died. My wife left me. I’m 100 pounds overweight until they hang up.
Me: If it’s a female, in my huskiest voice I’ll ask, “What are you wearing?”
Me: Just say NO over and over. Use different tones and inflections. Count how many times you say it before they hang up.
Me: Do you sell carpet stain remover? No matter what they say ask them if it removes human and goat blood.
Me: I work for the same company. You can’t sell to employees.
Me: Scream and say, “OH, MY, GOD.” Then hang up.
Me: Can I have your home phone number so I can call you back tonight? Why not? It’s probably because you don’t want to be bothered by a telemarketer while you’re eating.
Me: Hey, can you bring me some cigarettes/beer/dope?
Me: I probably need to tell you I’m not wearing any clothes.
Me: If you start selling beer, give me a call.
Me: Reply in gibberish and hum a song in foreign music.
Me: You sound really attractive. Do you call here often? Can we go out sometime?
Me: He/She died last week.
Me: What did I win?
Me: Sorry, I’m about to cut off my tongue to achieve ultimate power.
Me: Hello, you’re on the air at 97.1 The River
Me: Could you hold please? My wife is having a baby. My wife is plucking a chicken for supper. My wife is taking off her clothes in front of the neighbors. There are some doozies you could think up on this one.
Well, I’m tired of phishing. Can someone order up some warm weather and some real fishing? I’ll see y’all at the pond and call you during supper.