I Love Telemarketers!

I have many stories about the sad, sad plight of telemarketers. They call my house, I fuck with them horribly, they laugh, they cry, and so on. This is just one story about a telemarketer calling my house this week.

TM: Hi, is Mr. or Mrs. XX home? This is TM from Wells Fargo Bank.
Sam: This is Mrs. XX.
TM: I'm calling you with a great offer from Wells Fargo Bank. We are offering you protection for your family through our Accidental Death Insurance. Blah Blah Blah. Only 1 dollar for the first 60 days to protect your family.

(I need to pause here. This is wrong on sooo many levels that I will have to put it in another post. Let's just say that a facet of my job involves insurance, and what she is selling is a crock of shit.)

Sam: Well, TM I'm so sorry but I'm going through a divorce (okay it's already final but that ruins the flow of what I'm about to say) and if my husband dies in the next 60 days it won't be accidental.

TM: (cracks up) Oh my goodness, you just made my day! That was hilarious!

She actually lets me off the phone at that point. She was happy, I was happy. It's not often that I mess with telemarketers and they are bright enough to know that I'm fucking with them. They usually don't appreciate my comments. I don't appreciate being sold crap over the phone.