Telemarketing is a joke
In which I turn the tables on a telemarketer
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I don’t recognize the number on my caller ID, but I pick up anyway because unknown calls, in my experience, can only be one of four things:
An emergency
A wrong number
Spam
Comedy gold
“Hi, my name is Steve Lewis,” the caller begins, “I’m a real estate agent. I’ve got an open house in your area this weekend, and I’d like to invite you to come take a look.”
“Tell me more, Steve.”
“Well, it’s a beautiful condo…”
“Let me stop you right there because I think we have a terminology problem.”
“How’s that?”
“You said open house.”
“That’s right.”
“But it’s a condo.”
“And it’s gorgeous.”
“I heard it was beautiful, but I’m not here to quibble over adjectives. My beef is this: shouldn’t the event be called an open condo?”
There’s an awkward pause, but Steve recovers quickly.
“I see what you did there. Very funny, haha. I’m going to use that line.”
“Not without paying me, you’re not. I get paid big bucks for my observational humor.”
Steve laughs, but I don’t.
“Anyway,” Steve continues, “are you in the market for a condo?”
“Not really.”
“Do you know anyone who might be in the market for a condo?”
“Sure, lots of people.”
“Great. I’d love to tell them about this listing, maybe invite them to the open house.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because these are my leads, Steve, that’s why. If I share them willy-nilly, then where does that leave me? I’ll tell you where—broke a joke.”
“Oh, are you in the real estate business?”
“No, as I told you earlier, I’m in the funny business.”
“Really?”
“Steve, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“And you make money in that business?”
“No, I make humor, which can be purchased with money. I take cash, credit, and crypto. I’m also willing to entertain barters, but it has to be something really compelling, like a parrot that can recite Hamlet.”
The line goes quiet. I fear that the going got too weird for Steve. I knew this might happen. To beak, or not to beak is just too niche for a broad audience. “Stick to dick and fart jokes,” Christina keeps telling me. “Shakespeare is too high-brow.”
But as it turns out, I’ve underestimated Steve.
“Do you think a parrot could recite Shakespeare?” he asks.
“Sure. Because if Polly wants a cracker, he better know his lines.”
Steve lets out an uneasy chuckle.
“That joke is on the condo,” I say.
“Huh?”
“We’re back to the terminology again.”
“Huh?”
“That joke about the parrot was on the house.”
Another long pause, followed by another uneasy laugh.
“You know,” Steve says, “I always wondered how people like you come up with this stuff.”
“Everyone has a different process. Some people like index cards, other people use psychedelic mushrooms.”
“What about you?”
“I just answer the phone and let it fly.”
I laughed out loud reading this. Brilliant!
Another way to brighten my Sunday morning. Thanks