Tag Archives: telemarketers

Robo Call

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Seven Assorted Colored Rotary Telephones

My phone number has somehow made its way onto the call lists of an untold number of telemarketers. I’ve been getting solicitations for years, often 3 to 6 in a single day. On many occasions, the caller thinks I’m Mrs. Sanchez. Sometimes the caller attempts to conduct business in Spanish. I’ve had the same phone number since 2012. I’ve never used Sanchez as a pseudonym. My command of Spanish is minimal at best. I have no idea how my number ended up on these particular call lists.

My phone has a California area code, so many of these telemarketing calls are targeted at a California home owner. I get the same recording offering to steam clean my carpets every couple of weeks. I simply hang up on this recording and others. Real people say they represent contractors and are offering California home owners free estimates on home improvements. Sometimes the free estimates (and/or government subsidies) are related to solar panels. I usually tell these people I don’t have a home or I live in my van, and they can’t get off the phone with me quickly enough. Sometimes I get a wish of good luck! before they disconnect.

When I can get a word in, I ask the telemarketers to remove me from their call list. They say they will, but I doubt they do. Really, why should they bother? How will I know if they do or they don’t? What are the chances I’ll take some sort of legal action if representatives of the company continues to call me after I ask them to stop?

I do block the numbers of known telemarketers, but that barely helps. For every number blocked, two new ones seem to spring up in its place. The same companies seem to have a multitude of outgoing numbers at their disposal.

Usually I end these calls as quickly as possible. I don’t have a need for the legitimate services offered, and I fear most of these calls only lead to scams. However, sometimes I’m bored and decide to see if I can have a little fun before the call ends. My fun usually takes the form of pretending I think I’ve already won a prize when the caller tells me I may (probably not) have won a prize.

Oh! That’s so great! I gush. How soon can I go on that cruise to Antigua/pick up my new car/spend my $6 trillion dollars? I’m amused for a few minutes while the caller frantically tries to convince me I haven’t won yet, and I act

White Cruise Ship on Blue Body of Water during Daytime

as if my prize is already on its way.

I’ll probably go to Hell for these games I play, as it’s not kind to mess with people who are simply trying to make a living. Then I remember these people are making a living by taking advantage of people who aren’t so savvy to the wicked ways of the world. Who’s going to Hell now?

One day I was at the library, working on this blog. I had my phone’s sound turned off, but I saw I had a call coming in. I answered and was greeted by the least human robot voice imaginable. The robot told me its name was Gail, and there was a problem with my social security number. Gail the robot asked me to call back the number it was calling from so we could discuss the very urgent problem with my social security number. Apparently Gail was not just a robot, but a robot programmed by a non-native speaker of English. Her syntax was off, and her word choice was strange. Surely the legitimate Social Security Administration would do better than this recording.

I don’t know exactly why I decided to return the call. I think it was because the recording was so outlandish. I was wildly curious to find out what an actual person on the other end of the line would say. Besides, I had nothing to lose. These people already had my phone number, and there was no way I was going to give up any other personal information.

I dialed the number and was surprised when a live human being immediately answered my call. The voice seemed to belong to a male, and from the accent, I judged the person to be a non-native speaker of English. Of course, I have no way of knowing if my assumptions were correct.

I could hear a lot of noise in the background. The call center I had reached must have been huge because I could hear the frenzied buzz of many voices and the tapping of fingers on multiple keyboards.

I told the person who’d answered the phone that I’d received a call from the number I’d just dialed and was now returning the call as instructed. The telemarketer (or scam artist or whatever they’re calling themselves these days) asked me when I’d received the call, and I replied, Just moments ago. He asked if I’d received a voice mail, and I said it hadn’t been a voicemail, it had been a call from a fake human.

At this point I grabbed my purse and walked out of the library and stood on the sidewalk so my exchange with the telemarketer wouldn’t disturb the other patrons. I thought this call might last a while.

The telemarketer asked my name. I asked him what name he had on file for me. When he insisted that he needed me to give him my name, I said, You called me.

The telemarketer immediately dropped all pretense of professionalism. Fuk U, beetch! he said to me.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d barely provoked him. He’d gone from zero to cursing because I didn’t immediately state my name. He must have been having a really bad day.

I was stunned into silence, and he screeched again, Fuk U, beetch!

What are you saying? Are you even speaking English? I asked. It was not the finest comeback, I admit. I knew very well what he was saying and in what language he was saying it.

He threw one more Fuk U, beetch! at me for good measure, then disconnected the call.

Wow. I was shocked, but not really offended. We hadn’t been on the phone long enough for me to take his anger or even his cursing personally. Someone should tell the guy that immediate cursing and early termination of a call is not the way to swindle a person’s social security number out of them. He needed to use a little finesse, perhaps some sweet talk and flattery. He needed to earn the caller’s trust, build up the caller’s confidence in him. He was never going to scam anyone with that negative attitude of his.

I doubt a supervisor would ever guide him to an outstanding career as a scam artist telemarketer. After all, the call was probably not being monitored for quality assurance or training purposes. His supervisor would probably never know he was going off script to hurl Fuk U, beetch! at non-cooperative callers.

I added my number to the National Do Not Call Registry maintained by the Federal Trade Commission. We’ll see if doing so puts a dent in the number of telemarketing calls I receive.

Images courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/seven-assorted-colored-rotary-telephones-774448/ and https://www.pexels.com/search/cruise/.

Telemarketers

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Late in 2016 I started getting calls for Mr. Sanchez. Black Rotary Phone

My phone says the calls come from California, and the person calling often greets me in Spanish.  The telemarketers usually speak about home improvements and local contractors or ask if I am the homeowner.

Although my phone number has a California area code, and I have worked in the state, I’ve never had a permanent address there. I’ve never been a homeowner in California either, and my ability to speak Spanish is infantile at best. The telemarketing calls are obviously not intended for me.

I’ve had the same phone number since the summer of 2012. I doubt Mr. Sanchez had the number before me and telemarketers are finally getting around to calling him 5+ years later. I think Mr. Sanchez gave my number to some business somewhere and it ended up being sold to other companies. My phone number is now on a list, but I’ll never know if Mr. Sanchez gave the wrong number—which turned out to be mine—accidentally or on purpose.

When I answer the phone and I’m greeted in Spanish, I say, I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.

When I’m asked for Mr. Sanchez, I say, I’m sorry, there’s no one here by that name. You must have the wrong number.

Sometimes when the caller realizes from my hello that I’m a woman, I’m assumed to be Mrs. Sanchez. When that happens, I give them my wrong number response.

None of these responses seem to deter the telemarketers. They jump right in telling me about local contractors or asking if I’m the homeowner. They don’t care about Mr. or Mrs. Sanchez; they only care about meeting their quotas.

One day the telemarketer who’d called asked me if I was the homeowner.

No, I said. I don’t own a home. I live in a van.

The telemarketer was not expecting this answer and became embarrassed and flustered. Oh, I’m sorry, he muttered before ending the call.

Bingo!  I thought. Now I know how to get rid of them.

The next time I got a telemarketing call, I was ready.

No Mr. Sanchez here. Wrong number. Nope, not the homeowner. I live in a van.

The response I got was not what I expected. My confession about my living arrangement was not met with pity. The man on the other end of the line did not become flustered and end the call. Instead, he proclaimed, You are so luck-eeeeeee!

I agreed that I am lucky and the telemarketer asked, Where are you right now?

I told him I was in New Mexico, and he said geography was kind of his thing, Do you mind telling me where in New Mexico you are? he asked.

I told him I was in Truth or Consequences, which was almost true, as it was the closest town to the BLM land where my van and I were sitting at the moment.

That’s near El Paso, right? the telemarketer asked me.

While I was glad he appreciated my van-dwelling ways, I needed to drive and didn’t want to speak to this stranger any longer.

That’s right, I said. It’s not far from El Paso.

I hear it’s dangerous in El Paso, he said.

Well, I’m not going there, I told him.

Before I could say good-bye, he wanted to know, What’s the weather like down there?

The conversation was getting ridiculous. I thought saying I lived in my van would end the call, but instead it opened up a can of 50 Questions.

I gave him a quick weather report, rapidly followed by I gotta go!

Once I hung up, I told The Man (who’d been sitting next to me the whole time and heard my side of the exchange), I thought I’d never get off the phone with that guy.

At least the geography guy was nice. I got another telemarketing call a few weeks later and it was all kinds of wrong.

My phone started ringing and showed an 888 area code, so I knew it was a telemarketing call. I answered so I could ask the caller to remove me from the company’s list. I could hear a lot of noise in the background, maybe a television, maybe kids playing, maybe both. As usual, the telemarketer didn’t even want to talk to me; he wanted to talk to Mrs. Sanchez. I told him there was no one by that name at my number and asked the guy to please take my number off his list. He answered, You’re full of shit! I’m not taking you off nothing!

I said, Excuse me? but he had already hung up. For his sake, I hope the call was not being recorded for quality assurance.

I googled the number and it seems to be some kind of scam telemarketing operation. Someone wrote of the operation, They are using Magic Jack on VoIP which allows them to spoof and robodial. I don’t know what that means, but I blocked the number as soon as the call was over.

Image courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/black-rotary-phone-207456/.