So my cell phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize. Telemarketers. Again.
Yes, I’m on the Do Not Call registry, but it hardly seems to do any good. They call constantly, the robocallers and the computer voices. The woman who tells me I can lower my interest rate, and warns me it’s my final notice.
If it’s my final notice, why do you keep calling?
We know you, you people of the scam. There has to be a better way to do business than to hound people, endlessly, with calls you know they don’t want and probably won’t answer.
And it’s not as if the scam groups haven’t been prosecuted. Yet, like the snake oil salesmen of old, they pull up their tent stakes and move to the next town, where they can start getting the town riled up about trouble with a capital T that rhymes with P and that stands for pool. Wait, no, that’s the “Music Man.” But you get the idea.
Meanwhile, I’ve started a list of “do not answer” calls, so I can shuffle them off to voicemail as quickly as the phone rings. It’s still inconvenient. If only there was something that would stop them calling in the first place.
Barring a major asteroid, which might prove kind of inconvenient for the rest of us, I’m not holding out much hope.