Jan and I have lived in the same place for two years, and we have had the same phone number for all of that time.
Some call center keeps calling for someone named Mr O’Brian, at first we took it in good nature and explained that no Mr. O’Brian was here.
Unfortunately the calls became a weekly event. Poor Jan had to field them all because they tended to be during the day when I was at work. Jan has the patience of Job, but even she was beginning to wish that the witch hunt for the elusive Mr. O’Brian would look somewhere other that our basement apartment.
It was clear from the telemarketer’s tone that they were not looking for Mr. O’Brian to tell him that he had won a $1,000,000. I suspect that they want money! The collection business is an interesting one, you buy debt at pennies on the dollar and employ heavy handed phone thugs to try and reclaim a few pennies on the few pennies that they have bought.
Over the past year Jan has repeatedly told these people that we know of no miscreant named Mr. O’Brian. Repeatedly she has been told that our phone number will be removed from their database.
More by luck than judgment I was here the last time that the seekers of Mr. O’Brian called. It was most entertaining.
Them: Can we speak to Mr. O’Brian?
Me: Nope, we are not the O’Brians, never have been, are not now, and never will be!
Them: Oh, OK, I will take you off our calling list.
Me: Hang on a second, you have said that every week for the past 2 years, what is your name, what is the name of your organization, and what is the mailing address?
Them: Ummm, let me put you through to my superviser.
Supervisor: Hello, can I help you?
Me: I doubt it, but we can give it a try. For almost two years you have annoyed my wife and I with calls looking for a Mr. O’Brian, without exaggeration we have told you this at least 100 times. Why do you keep calling us?
Supervisor: I will make sure that your number is removed from our database, have a nice day.
Me: Woah, hold your horses, I want to know your name, and the name of your company, I am filing a complaint, we have asked repeatedly to be removed from your system, and nothing has been done.
Supervisor: Hold on, let me get my boss.
(shouting in the background…. Will, Will, come here quick, take this call………..)
Bossman: Hello, how can I help you?
Me: You are obviously a collection agency, and I am fed up with your calls, I am not Mr. O’Brian, I never have been and I never will be.
Bossman: No problem, we will remove you from the database.
Me: No, I want more information, I plan on filing a formal complaint, your organization calls us every week. For starters what is your name?
Bossman: umm Will
Me: I am sure that you work for a pretty big outfit, so saying that I spoke to Will might not actually single you out, do you have another name, a surname maybe?
Bossman: umm its Will MacDonalad.
Me: And the name of this company is?
Bossman: umm (mumble)
Me: sorry my hearing isn’t what it was, can you speak a little louder and spell it.
Bossman: umm Xentel, and we have over 30 offices worldwide
Me: And where exactly is this office? And what exactly is the address, so I know where to send my letter?
Bossman: We are in Edmonton, but I do not know the address.
Me: (laughing) That sounds odd, I have a job, I know the address of where I have to go everyday, do they move you around a lot or something?
Bossman: No, what I meant was I do not know the Post Office Box number.
Me: Oh I care nothing about the PO box, I want the street address.
Bossman: Oh, umm, it’s (mumble).
Me: sorry I did not quite get that, can you speak up and slowly…..
Bossman: umm its 10025 102st, Edmonton.
So my fellow readers and fellow recipients of those ugly calls from people that you don’t know, and don’t care about, it’s people like Will MacDonald doing it. Pick up your keyboard, or your pen and send them a message.
And remember to get their name and adress, boy they hate that!
Having posted this, I do plan on emailing my good good buddies at Xentel, I am sure that Will Macdonald will get a pay raise! hahahaha
Will, when I see you on the street corner begging for money, I'll be the guy that says "Your mother was right, you should have got a propper job".