Four phone calls this morning. Several with a robotic voice, congratulating me on my upcoming birthday. One with a live person who could not understand my request that she “please state her business”. All she would tell me was that her name was Joan and she was calling to wish me happy birthday.
I suppose I’ll never be lonesome now that I’m two months away from my 65th birthday and everyone wants to congratulate me. Everyone, that is, who sells Medicare supplemental insurance.
Just for the record, if anyone out there is listening, I do not want a stranger, whether live or robotic, to congratulate me on my up-coming birthday. I’m on the “No Call List” for a reason. That reason is if I don’t know you, I don’t want you to call me.
Nowadays, the only people who call unannounced are robots. Even my friends and relatives, though they don't need to, generally text or email to ask first if it’s a good time to call. For the record, I’m happy to talk to friends and relatives unannounced. If my hands are covered in cooking splatters, or I’m taking a shower, I won’t pick up the phone. But leave a message, I’ll call back, and we can happily chat.
Salespersons, on the other hand, whether you are trying to sell me Medicare supplemental insurance, or anything else, will not leave a message. They just keep calling back. So I answer those calls, try to get a live person and ask to be taken off their call list. But to no avail.
Here’s the deal. Joan, whoever you really are, I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to wish me happy birthday--two months early—or ever. I have enough friends and they don’t try to sell me insurance on the phone. And I especially don’t want to know all the robots that keep calling me.
So, be warned. The next ones to call, I’m recording your calls. I may notify the Attorney General’s Office of your violation of the “No Call List”. I may file a lawsuit seeking a restraining order and damages under the Consumer Protection Act. Or, if you are a real person, I may blow the loudest whistle I can find in your ear.
When you get close to age 65 you also get crabby when strangers keep calling to try to sell you something. We may be older but we aren’t stupid. And I can still find my way to the courthouse.