I LIKE getting calls from friends and family. Even if they’re disturbing us.
I HATE getting calls from telemarketers. Just hate it. I don’t even give to charities who phone anymore. I ask for them to send me something in the mail, so I can take my time to decide who I should support and for how much, but they insist I make a pledge first over the phone before sending me mail. So I don’t give them anything. Sorry. Don’t bother me at home. (Try it once. Call and say, “Is that Mrs. Ellis?”, and notice how frigid my voice goes suddenly. Being called Mrs. Ellis is extremely rare. I know they’ve found Reid’s name attached to our phone number, and assume I’m Mrs. Ellis.) I don’t mind being rude to telemarketers.
The other day I got a call to participate in a survey. She got far enough into the spiel to say she was looking for a particular age group. I said, ‘Sorry, I really don’t want to participate.’ I was looking for any way out. (I suppose I could get really rude and hang up. Haven’t done that yet. Give it a few more months.) She started speaking quickly, trying to get me to pass the phone to someone else, ‘Is someone else there between 18-39 who would be willing to take the survey?’. ‘Nope. Sorry’ I said, thinking, I don’t mind lying. I really want to get off the phone. It wasn’t until I hung up that I realized I wasn’t lying. There really isn’t anyone here between 18-39. Augh!
I think I can stay calm, though. We’re still not outside the more popular broadcast demographic I’m more familiar with: A18-49 (Adults, 18-49). Still a way to go. Whew.