Don't call me
(but just don't)
Calling, I'm a professional at it. When I get in the car, I switch on my hands-free for some chit-chat and to tick off some work-related tasks on the go. But besides my overwhelming love for all that calling, I also have major phone irritations. At number three: voicemail. Why do people leave messages in the inbox? By the way, they are almost always messages in the category ‘prefer not to’. So I found a solution: my voicemail is off. Nothing, nada to record, even though it sometimes feels like you're announcing that you're going to eat truffle risotto and your visitor is not invited. Going Dutch at its most inhospitable. Number two is the anonymous caller. A phone nowadays has a very handy screen where you can see who the caller is. I like to see the person announce themselves. I ignore anonymous callers with ease. And firmly at number one: the caller who needs something from you while you've spent three hours registering yourself in the Don't Call Me Register. The telemarketers, the call-minute-consuming terror. The little bastards.
Our sales director and Mays“ right hand Daan almost pulled the troela by her imaginary ponytail (I think she had one) through the phone. No idea what the reason for the call was, but no way I wanted to be in the shoes of the aforementioned troela. I'll quote a bit, then you'll get it: ”I'm not waiting for these annoying calls,“ ”Did you forget to check the Don't Call Me Register?“ and ”Remove me from your phone list now.” And believe me, Daniëlle is the nicest and most fun-crazy person in our editorial team, so you must really be making a big fuss for her to speak to you so sternly. I pulled my pom-poms out of the closet to cheer her on because I recognized myself in that terror. I find the unsolicited caller antisocial and teeth-grindingly annoying.
“How can that be if you are a supporter and follower of the Don't Call Me Register?”
Yeah, it's tough for the telemarketer who has the guts to call you. Because admit it: you're a daredevil with the better ball work if this is your job. But hey, it's also just a choice, because there are really job openings at a customer service where people call you. Sometimes you really get yelled at there too, but at least there is a reason in the form of a situation or product. And you are not the reason, because you are now. Actually, the doorbell rings, you open the door, and a complete stranger canary steps over the threshold and starts dumping a truckload of information in your living room. At a time and place that is completely inconvenient for you. Because you're cooking or hanging up laundry or you have to go to work. Also something; they like to call during working hours. But hello? Irritation factor times a million. How can that be if you are a supporter and follower of the Don't Call Me Register? Well, just like that.
The snakes in the grass (because let's drop that ‘tje’) of the Don't Call Me Register are... If you've ever had a relationship with a company, they can keep calling you for a lifetime. Own fault, thick bump to the max. That's quite a bit for me, because I have an energy-draining relationship with almost all electricity suppliers in the country. But good news, you have the right to objection. Yes, that's the legal term to fire back over the phone. If you mention this to the telemarketer with guts, they must remove you from the call list. They are obliged to, ha. And if there is something to investigate in the market, companies also get a free pass to call you aka terrorize you. Fat chance that someone is on the line to ask you ‘a few short questions’ and that it never lasts just five minutes, never. But that's allowed. Here too, you go into objection and kindly but firmly request (see the quotes from our Daan) to remove your name. Furthermore, the register tries to shield you from that phone terror, for which thanks.
So, and whoever dares to call me now, I will hit them with my Right to Object.
Credits: artography
