the secret lives of telemarketers

I want to share some industry secrets with you. Why do I want to do this? Because I like you, that's why. But you don't even know me! You may be thinking. Okay, I'll admit it: my motivations might be a teensy bit selfish, too.

You see, I've been working in the glorious and highly sought-after career field of telemarketing for a good year-and-a-half now, first as a charity fundraiser for Pell and Bales in London, and now as an arts fundraiser for the New York Philharmonic. Neither one of these jobs was (or is) very glamorous or entertaining. In fact, I regularly think that running out in front of traffic on 66th Street might be the better option than actually showing up for another shift at work.

But I have learned a thing or two about mistakes people make when talking to telemarketers through these experiences, and I think it's vital information that every person should know. I think this in spite of the fact that I work on commission, and the information I am about to let slip to you could allow someone to get off the phone with me, bank account unscathed. But the truth is, you hate telemarketers. You know you do. And you also may be under the impression that yelling "Stop calling here at dinner time YOU INHUMAN TWIT!" and slamming the phone onto the receiver (or vigorously thrusting your thumb down onto the "reject" button on your cell phone) is doing the trick.

I got news for y'all. It ain't.

Let me give it to you straight: Unless you sit on the phone with me for a minute, listen to what I'm saying and let me ask you for money, and then tell me no, there is no way you could give money, even if the winning lottery numbers crawled out of your ass tonight while you were sleeping and waited in your bedsheets for you til morning so you could win the $120 million Powerball, even then you could not give me money, you will receive another phone call. People, I cannot be clear enough on this one. I simply cannot say it enough. You must make it clear that a.) you know they are calling to ask you for money or to sell you something, b.) you are not interested in donating/making a purchase, b2.) why you are not interested and c.) that your answer is a firm and unwavering no, thank you.

Yelling at me (or any telemarketer) might feel good. I know it does, in fact, because I've been rude and snotty to telemarketers before. I've messed with their minds, played the victim, I've told them someone in my family had just died and HOW DARE THEY. But none of that does any good. Mrs. Smith whose husband just died? Two days ago? Give her about two weeks, we'll call her back and ask her for money and chances are, we'll try to sell her on the idea by making a gift in his name. I'd like to believe I still have a soul, y'all, I really would. But I know one thing for sure, and that's the people who run these operations do not.

So the next time you get one of these pesky calls, resist the urge to start quoting Revelations and damning the person on the other end of the phone to hell and think that's going to make them stop calling you. Or keep right on doing it, it really is no bother to me. I'd be more than happy to take your money.


cheers,
elizabeth