Hello?

Somehow the telephone always ends up under my pillow, so that the ringing encourages my seizing, jerking body to become one with the ceiling.

This morning, the crisp, businesslike woman calling informed me that I was not who I thought I was, and that she intended to get to the bottom of my problems with her auto insurance company. The company was called The Auto Insurance Company.

A few months back, I turned over a new leaf.

I'd become increasingly rude. I excused my rudeness as being the inescapable result of being in constant pain and seemingly always febrile -- both of which contributed to my being perpetually sleep-deprived. Poor me. Who would not be abrupt or rude, given those conditions?

Oh, shut up, you!
Stifle!

But then, one evening, a meek and mild, indeed a rather *milky* telemarketer gave me a call. He was supremely polite, apologetic almost for his mere existence. After our brief confab, I found myself imagining what his work day was like. The result of these imaginings was the aforementioned leaf-turning.

I mean, really. Eight-to-twelve hours of talking to people like me?

After The Auto Insurance Company Lady informed me of my true moniker and of her intention to ferret out my various wrongdoings and, most importantly, my non-payment
to The Auto Insurance Company, she wanted some information about Sonia, the person to whom I might have sold the vehicle in question. Her address, phone, email addy, anything. It was simple: either I turned state's evidence against Sonia or The Auto Insurance Company Lady was going to bring me down. Way down.

Patiently waiting, at the first break she took to avoid oxygen debt, I reassured her of my name and of the well-insured status of My Darling Ruby, the Honda CR-V, with State Farm. As I geared up for a gracious dénouement, proud of my stellar even-keel, wondering just how hard it could be to embroider the Golden Rule on my poly-blend pink pillowcases, The Auto Insurance Company Lady interrupted me...

And put me on hold.

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MORE TESTIMONIALS OF THE ETERNAL TELEPHONIC BATTLE BETWEEN RUDE AND NOT-RUDE:

I just got a telemarketing call from a guy who said he was with an organization representing the local police departments in our area. I politely told him that we handle our own business donations and that I wouldn't be interested. His response was "I don't care if your interested, I'm asking you to try thinking a little differently. Now can I speak to someone in your organization who can actually make a decision." -- DOGZA

I really hate the way that you can't argue with them.
There should be some way to bind them to what they have said.
Countless people have phoned me to offer a free mobile handset. I've accepted every single offer, but not one of them has delivered. -- vincevincevince

[Poor Vince!]

I used to own a telemarketing firm - the staff were a bunch of freaks.
One used to dress like an undertaker and smoke from a 1930's cig holder, another was arrested for murder, another attempted suicide in the womens toilets, another was a satanist and would keep reminding you of the fact, another would engage in bizarre behaviour like throwing his coat out of the office window.
odd bunch, im glad I dont do that anymore. -- Essex Boy