Telemarketing and Me: Ring-a-ding-ding and dripping Denise

Awhile back, when the Do Not Call list was first in the news, I was deeply in debt and did not plan to buy anything from a telemarketer. I put myself on that list – before it actually went into effect.

However, I was also concerned about the tendency of many in the media and elsewhere to demonize telemarketing and those who perform it. I was a telemarketer for far longer than I care to remember and I penned a column on this topic that was published in the “Atlanta Journal-Constitution.”

I was moved to write my essay because liberal commentator Ellen Goodman had recently published a column in the “Atlanta Journal-Constitution” that denounced telemarketing. In my column I wrote, “I wonder what has happened to columnist Ellen Goodman’s much vaunted sympathy for the disadvantaged. According to the American Teleservices Association, ‘64% of telemarketers are minorities, 25% are single mothers, 30% have been on some sort of government assistance and 5% are disabled.’ In the next breath, the ATA noted, somewhat gratuitously, that these are not people who are going to have an easy time getting other jobs and that about two million of them are expected to be unemployed when and if the Do Not Call list goes into effect.”

My essay continued, “Does Goodman’s identification with the downtrodden stop when one such low-paid unfortunate interrupts her dinner? That is understandable. However, everyone who is annoyed by a telemarketing call might do well to remind themselves that the person calling probably wants to give you a call about as much as you want to receive one. She may have recently left welfare and need a job that allows her to get home when her kids return from school. He may have a disability that makes it hard to hold most jobs.”

I went on as follows:

Telemarketing is brutal work. It is boring, tedious, frustrating, and dispiriting. One man I called when I was soliciting for a newspaper (not this one) seemed to recognize this.

“How many sales are you supposed to make a day?” he asked.

“Three or four,” I replied.

“And how many do you make, Denise?” he asked.

“I’m lucky if I make one or two,” I answered honestly.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I guess maybe my voice sounds like I’m kind of down or it gets worn out from all this calling.”

“Have you felt depressed recently?”

“Yes,” I said.

“OK, I’m a psychologist and I’ll tell you what: I’ll take the subscription to the newspaper if you take down the name of this medicine found in health food stores that helps with depression.”

I wrote the name he gave me, “Tryptophan” on a piece of scrap paper. Of course, it would be a kicker if that was a poison or something and the man was having fun with a telemarketer. But he was not. Tryptophan is indeed sold in health food stores for depression. And that man took a newspaper subscription.

That was over twenty years ago and I still remember with gratitude a good man’s kindness to a lowly, pesky telemarketer.

After the essay including the above matters was published, I was – quite understandably – razzed for being disingenuous and hypocritical for having my name listed on the Do Not Call list. I saw the logic and decided to try to get my name taken off that list. Since it had not yet gone into effect, my being on it for those couple of days would not have led to any lessening of telemarketing calls to my number. However, I feared that the makers of the list wouldn’t have foreseen that some people might want to withdraw their numbers from it so it was with some apprehension that I again called the Do Not Call list number.

To my relief, they had foreseen this possibility as a way was provided to rescind your phone number from it and that is what I did.

I make it a practice to be nice to telemarketers, to turn them down firmly but say, “I really hope you make some sales today and have a very nice day, all right?”

One thing I should add is that – usually – I don’t interrupt a meal or rush out of the bathroom to answer my phone. People will leave messages if it is important and sometimes even if it is not.

However, there was one time that was an exception. I was waiting anxiously for an extremely important phone call from my boss at “The Caribbean Star.”

I was taking a shower.

The phone rang.

I ran out of the shower. Dripping wet and naked, I answered the phone to hear a telemarketer give me a sales pitch.

“I’m sorry but I’m not interested and really cannot take it,” I replied as water droplets drifting down my nude body. “However, I really hope you make some sales today and have a beautiful day, OK?”

The telemarketer accepted that answer and we hung up on polite terms.

I think I can consider that ill-timed call the ultimate test of my principles regarding telemarketers – one that I passed.

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This entry was posted on Saturday, October 25th, 2008 at 5:26 am and is filed under Vox Populi. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. | 180 views | Trackback | Print this page |

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