The phone rings, and caller ID steels me for the fact that something terrible is about to occur with an "Out of Area" message. And so it proves.
"Hello," says the call centre voice, "Am I speaking to Mr Baker?"
"Yes," I lie in my best Timelord voice, "This is Tom Baker."
"Are you aware that there are government grants available for loft insulation?" they ask from their script.
"Why, yes," says the Fourth Doctor, "Yes I am."
"And have you ever considered applying for one of these grants? Our one stop shop makes this process as simple as possible and could save you pounds."
I shudder at the words "one stop shop", a phrase which marks the very worst of Buzzword Bingo, and reply in the negative.
"I'd advise you take up our offer right away, sir. You could be missing out on discount loft insulation."
Time for the bombshell. I hope they are wearing appropriate protective clothing.
"We live in a ground floor flat. Your move."
They do not reply. The line goes dead.
3 comments:
I like getting the female telemarketers. my standard response is: "what are you wearing? do you touch yourself? I'm touching myself right now. I'm so hard & horny for you! put your hand down your pants & touch yourself with me..." and that's as far as I've ever gone. the bitches always hang up on me before the vinegar stroke. damned stuck up snobs.
You should leave it until they come to take your address for a site visit.
Better still, arrange the site visit and take pictures.
Glad to hear you're Mr Baker, I'm Mr McCarthy. Trying to perfect that Yorkshire accent.
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