Two weeks ago, on these hallowed pages, I asked readers to send in their favorite weird methods for getting rid of telephone solicitors.
I appear to have touched a nerve, to put it mildly.
You've responded with the sort of venom usually reserved for baseball umpires and people with 50 items in the express lane.
Personal grooming and spurious household disasters seemed to feature in a number of responses, such as the submission from Terri Russell, who tells the caller that she's got dye in her hair, but would be more than willing to call them back at THEIR home. Casey Dennis tells them that there's a pot boiling over on the stove, and then leaves the phone sitting until the caller gets frustrated and hangs up.
Janice Lascko likes to enlist legal help from the salesfolk, asking them to call her husband and get him to buy their products with the child support money she says he's not sending.
Thomas Anastasi has a mixed bag of tactics. He tells callers trying to push newspapers or magazines that he is blind. If they ask (as many do) if he's the "decision maker" of the house, he goes into a little skit debating with himself before declaring that he can't decide if he is or not. Salesmen incautious enough to leave a number on his Caller ID will receive a call from him offering to sell them various items from his garage: nails, motor oil, garbage cans, etc. He doesn't take no for an answer.
Kim Robert Jaynes has history on his side. He grew up watching his folks deal with the Fuller Brush Man and other such famous peddlers, and has spent his fair share of time dealing with them as an adult. One of his favorite tacks is to hit the callers up for money to feed his 8 kids. If they're selling a financial product and ask if he's got a checking account, he replies that he does, and proudly states that it's been overdrawn for months. How much is that credit line?
Where Jaynes truly excels, however, is dealing with the aforementioned door-to-door salesmen. I'll let him tell you about it:
"One of my favorite things to do is have vacuum cleaner salesmen. I try to set aside the whole evening for them. I wait until they are about done and are going over the price ( "now isn't half a million dollars a good deal for the vacuum and these attachments?" ). Then I tell them that with all these kids that there is no way I can afford that, but . . . maybe we can dicker. What can they do. I really would like to get one of them there new fangled things for the wife."
"After the initial disappointment of hearing that we can't afford it, they are trying to figure another approach to sell something. The offer to dicker gives them an opening. I haven't seen one yet that could stay off the flypaper. We negotiate. I have plenty of time. I had one guy begging to trade me a $1500.00 vacuum (you guess the brand) for about $50.00 worth of junk. My wife had to go into the kitchen and stuff a towel in her mouth. I went in and asked her if she wanted the machine. She said no. I almost felt bad. The guy spent a whole evening and went away without even making a bad trade."
Erika Vaughan likes to tell uninvited callers that she's got to ask her husband about the purchase, but that he gets awfully cranky when he's cleaning his guns.
A very popular method among the respondents seems to be faking the death of the person being asked for on the phone. Sarah Peterson's uncle delights in reporting his own demise to telemarketers.
John Dunlap is a jack-of-all-trades ... or at least of whatever trade the person on the phone is trying to sell. I haven't asked him how he handles people trying to sell burial plots.
A universal favorite seems to be making an offer to call the solicitor back at his or her home at a time of equal inconvenience. Amanda Gunter proclaims this one as her favorite. I'm not letting her have my number!
Our final two selections are without a doubt the strangest of all. The first comes from loyal reader Michael Naegeli. He promises to call to the phone someone who'll listen to the sales pitch and puts the phone down. He then launches into an argument with his "phantom self." He'll start with something simple, like leaving the toilet seat up/down or forgetting to turn off lights. In the case of repeat callers, he gets a little more creative, screaming about adult video rental charges and illegal activities taking place in a neighbor's yard (use your imagination).
The final one, and one that I'm just salivating to try, comes from a co-worker, T.J. Kudalis. He likes to bargain with the folks on the phone. When they offer a magazine subscription for 20 bucks a year, he offers 19. What results can best be described as a complete cerebral lockdown on the part of the solicitor. T.J., however, loses points in the end. He took pity on the saleslady and did actually take the subscription being offered. For his spinelessness and lack of dedication to the cause, he shall be fed feet-first to a herd of starving armadillos.
So, did this give you any good ideas? Do you have a favorite that you didn't see here?
Let me know.
What's YOUR favorite way to deal with phone solicitors?
Join our discussion!
We'll be back next week with more of the weird and wacky events that keep life interesting; and keep me in corn flakes.
Previous Stories: - July 27, 2001: Pet The Nice Sharkie
- July 20, 2001: Step Away From The Barn, Sir
- July 13, 2001: The Doctor Will Weird You Now
- July 6, 2001: Driving While Weird
- June 29, 2001: Crazy From The Heat
- June 22, 2001: Mayo Munchers Need Not Apply
- June 8, 2001: Welcome, Weird Employees
- June 1, 2001: Have A Weird Vacation
- May 25, 2001: Danger, Danger Everywhere
