I knew his name couldn’t possibly have been Ben, based on the fact that he sounded exactly like Gandhi.
This happens a lot – telemarketing companies outsourcing their after-hours calls to India, where the men make up names like “John” and “Ben”, and the women are all “Cindy.” Just for fun, I’m going to start randomly dialing homes in India speaking in my worst Boston accent, and saying that my name is “Ravineesh”. Let's see how THEY like it.
What royally pissed me off about Ben’s call wasn’t the fact that he was blatantly lying to me about his name (which was most likely Ishwanamar Taboule Patel), but rather the fact that it was 8:30 p.m, and my number has long been on the “Do Not Call List.”
So, I did what I normally do:
Ishwanamar: “Hello. My name is Ben and..”
Me: “I’m not interested, thank you.”
Pretty simple. I’m polite at the end with the “thank you”, at least.
I started to sit back down.
The caller id said “Incoming Call”…not “private”, not an actual number, just “Incoming call.”
Ishwanamar: “Hello. My name is Ben and…”
Me: “Ben…Ben…I told you I’m not interested. Please don’t call here again, Ben.”
Two seconds later, the phone rings again.
I’m astounded. This guy has some seriously large shawarmas.
It’s Ben again. AGAIN. He’s not giving up. And what’s really starting to piss me off now, is that he’s doing the same, “Hello. My name is Ben…” shpeel. Like he didn’t know he JUST called me.
I told him that I still didn’t want him to call, and that I now wanted to speak to his Supervisor. He immediately put on “Roger” (really? Roger?), who was obviously not his supervisor, but more likely the guy in the cube next to him.
At this point, I’m mad. I’m telling Roger that I do NOT want him to call me again.
He says, and I swear this is true, “I WILL call you again.”
How do you respond to that?!
“No you won’t,” I said.
“Yes, I will, “ says Roger.
WTF. Now, I’m in a literal first-grade verbal tug-of-war with Roger, the adamant Indian about whether or not he’s going to call me. He tells me that he’s going to continue to call me, because I am NOT on a “Do Not Call” list. I ask to talk to his supervisor – he says that he’s it. I ask for the company address – no dice. I ask for the parent company – nada.
I’m at the mercy of this guy and his stalking New Delhi horde, apparently. I’m still yelling into the phone, when he hangs up on me.
I start to sit down…
NO WAY. NO F’ING WAY.
I pick up the phone….
“Hello. My name is Ben and….”
I was frustrated…I was tired…and I did what immediately came to mind…
I invented a language.
“Alooo? Pink a ling a dangle? Alooooo? Misa pinga doodle! Aloooo?”
Ben’s flustered and confused…”um…Hello?...my name is…”
Me: “Binga bonga? Binga linga doowap? Alooooo?”
Ben: “Hello?...Hello?...my name is…”
Me: “Aloooo? Somanakabeeside! Aloooo?”
Ben did not call back…nor did Roger, or Chrissy or Cindy.
Score one for Ravineesh.