When I reflect upon the evil I?ve inflicted upon the world (from consternating cuckolds to crash-testing the careers of my rivals) I?m forced to accept that, at times, I?ve been a one-man-misery machine. This is nothing compared to my pre-career dalliance with the dark arts of telemarketing.
I?ve ruminated upon this herpe besmirching my resume here before, and will likely again, just as the tinnitus that tortures my ears with ceaseless ringing echoes that of the phone rooms where I once did the devil?s dialing.
Sure, I could claim that I was weak and naive, a callow youth, during my protracted fall (or would that be ?call??) from grace. But even from the tender years of 15 to 22, I knew what I was doing. And I was good. I sold everything from alarm systems to theater subscriptions and even did serial dialing for a chimney sweep. Cold calling from a phone book is in itself bottom feeding for leads. Serial dialing takes it further down the food chain. Armed with only an area code and a working city prefix, the telemarketer sequentially adds digits, from 0001 through 9999, ringing every phone along the way. It?s the telephony equivalent of a scorched earth campaign. Continue reading “Scams: The Telemarketer Rings Twice”