It's that time of year. Television and radio are polluted with ads for life insurance, weight loss miracles and the old-style K-Tel albums of music that was never much good anyway; and the phone lines are burning up with telemarketing calls.
Here's a tip for the companies that unleash the barely English-speaking callers on us: If I wanted whatever the hell it is that you're selling, I would call you!
The most recent call was at 9:30 this morning. Now keep in mind, I was sleeping, having worked until almost midnight, and only getting to bed after two o'clock. It was that now familiar five-second pause while my name comes up on the caller's computer screen, then a heavily accented voice trying to pronounce it. Come on! -- "McIntyre" is not that difficult! You can't even pronounce my name, and you want me to buy something from you?!?!
Don't get me wrong. I do have sympathy for the caller, although not a lot. Those people are working for minimum wage, trying to make a living by annoying their potential customers. What really disgusts me is that they suck in enough people to make it worthwhile, so it continues.
Whatever happened to the planned "do not call" list? I would be first in line to get my name and phone number on it. Heck, I would manage the campaign of any politician who promised to implement it. Sure, there are probably fewer politician's promises kept than there are successful telemarketing calls, but it would be worth a shot.
Okay. I've vented and feel much better now. Gotta go: the phone's ringing.