Honolulu Lite










by Charles Memminger

Wednesday, February 5, 1997


We need not be polite
to nitwits

IT wasn't long ago that if I had asked to borrow thousands of dollars from a financial institution, loan officers would have begun rolling around on the carpet laughing.

Now, I can't stop people from trying to throw money at me. Literally.

Just about every other night, I get an unsolicited phone call from some company trying to refinance my home mortgage or set me up with a line of credit or a new credit card. I don't need the money. Ergo, it's there.

I used to be polite and just say, "No thanks." But the calls continued and always at the worst possible times, like when I was serving dinner or visiting the, well, you know.

Why was I being nice to these nitwits? Sure, I was brought up to be courteous on the phone. But that assumed that the caller deserved it. What we have now are companies who use the telephone as a marketing tool, with no consideration to whether you are interested in talking to them or not. They are imposing on us. They are asking personal questions about our finances and homes. And they are doing it through sweat-shop phone room operations that merely pay people to make as many phone calls as possible.

Why should we be polite to these people? They are exploiting our basic good nature. In the public interest, I've compiled a number of ways to deal with these unsolicited sales pitches. (I confess that I did not think of all of these by myself. But I really like them.)

After the caller makes her initial pitch, tell her the offer sounds interesting and ask her name. Then ask her phone number. Then ask for her home phone number. Ask her what kind of a house she lives in and what time she eats dinner. Pretty soon, she (or he) will become upset at your prying. I actually had one last week who said, "I can't tell you my home number! That's private!" And I said, "Oh. I see. You can know my home number. You can call me at home at dinner time. You can ask me personal questions about my finances. But I can't do the same to you. Gee, that doesn't seem fair. Take a hike."

When it becomes clear that you are being hit with an unsolicited sales pitch, ask the caller to hold on while you get a pencil. Then just leave the phone off the hook and go about your business. In a little while, hang up. (Sure, this seems mean. But why should the caller be able to infringe on your time and you can't infringe on his?)

A variation of the above: If you have a musical instrument in the house, ask the person to hold on. Then begin playing. Go back on the line every few moments and ask, "Whaddya think? Pretty good?" Then play some more. Keep it up until the sales person hangs up. (Bad harmonica works best.)

Repeat everything they say to you and see how long you can keep going before they give up. Caller: "We'd like to tell you about our new mortgage program." You: "You'd like to tell me about your new mortgage program?" Caller: "Yes, we have a new mortgage program." You: "You have a new mortgage program?" Caller: "Yes, now you may already qualify." You: "I may already qualify?"

Another variation: Simply ask, "Why?" to everything. "Hi, may I speak to Mr. Memminger?" "Why?" "Because we have a new credit card we'd like to discuss with him." "Why? Etc." This can go on forever and eventually gets into really weird philosophical ground. (Caller: "Because we think the world will be better off if people use our credit card." "Why?" "Because people want to be happy." "Why?" "Because God created . . . aw, forget it."

Try a few of these ideas and you'll find yourself actually looking forward to getting unsolicited calls. Don't feel guilty. It's your telephone. It's there to make your life easier, not to help some salesperson make a fast buck.



Charles Memminger, winner of National Society of Newspaper Columnists awards in 1994 and 1992, writes "Honolulu Lite" Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Write to him at the Honolulu Star-Bulletin, P.O. Box 3080, Honolulu, 96802 or send E-mail to charley@nomayo.com or 71224.113@compuserve.com.



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