DEBRIS.COMgood for a laugh, or possibly an aneurysm

“Hi, this is Ramon calling from Pacific Bell. I’m calling you today to sell you a bunch of crap you don’t need or want. Interrupt me if you want to get a word through, or I’ll just leap right into my sales spiel until, beaten down by the sheer weight of my diction, you’ll commit to another $20/month worth of uninteresting telco services that we’ll later charge you to disable —”

OK, that’s not exactly what he said, but it gives you the idea.

“This sounds great,” I chirp in my friendliest, most gullible voice. “I’m on the other line, though; could you hang on for just a sec?”

The prospect of a sale inflated his professionally cheerful voice to the point of bursting. “Sure!” he gushed. By reflex I wiped the earpiece of my phone on my pantsleg.

And then I pressed the “hold” button on the telephone, and put the handset back into the cradle. I had no intention of picking it up again. I wanted him to rot in hold hell, without even sappy music to keep him company. Let him wait that first minute, expecting me to return at any time, maybe filling out the order screen with my personal data, optimistically checking off a full complement of revenue-bearing services… and the second minute, wondering what’s taking so long, but still sure of a pending sale… and a third minute, beginning to believe I’ve forgotten about him, seeing the sure sale fade away, fingers still poised above the keys and the order form half-filled-out… and the fourth minute, starting to sweat, falling behind his quota, watching the clock… and the fifth and final minute, anger welling up as he backspaces through all the data he’d entered into the order form, realizing I had no intention of ordering anything and that with a few simple words I’d tied him up for over five minutes, preventing him from bothering the next half-dozen victims on his list in a timely fashion.

Thanks for playing along, Ramon. Good luck with that quota. Call back anytime!