The political stumping season sucks. Our phone is ringing off the hook with pre-recorded messages that don’t tell me what anyone, if elected, is actually going to do to improve my life. Rather, the voice on the other end of the line rags on an opponent worse than The Real Housewives of New Jersey snarking at each other during a reunion show. (I’m Team Teresa is a Nutjob, by the way).
Last week, I answered at least 4 calls from a random number — hoping/praying it was a company responding to my resume with the offer of an interview so that I could find a job and not be home for these dreaded calls any longer. I actually waited until the end of the call, thinking there would be a “Press #1 if you are sick as shit of getting these calls and would like us to lose your number and never bother you again” message.
But no, the recording just stopped and the line went dead.
So I visited the website of my Congressman who was generating this call. Via an online comment submission form, I selected “Other” as my issue and typed a polite request, asking to be removed from the call list. I provided my home phone number the original recorded message was received on.
Days later I got this reply:
Thanks Roscoe, but this reply helps me out NOT ALL ALL. You see, I…
1) did not contact you about the specific legislative issue of Do-Not-Call registries; 2) know that there is a Do-Not-Call registry; 3) have already listed my number on that registry; 4) know that certain companies/entities/campaigns are not subject to the Do-Not-Call registry; and 5) sent you the message asking that my number be removed from your call list because I was already aware of all of this and wanted to be sure to contact you specifically to make sure my number was removed from your list.
I plan to send Roscoe’s people a reply to this e-mail that will go a little something like this:
Perhaps Carly Rae Jepsen would like you to call her maybe. But me? Not so much.