So, it’s Saturday morning. Eight-thirty to be precise. The phone rings. Who calls at 8:30 on a Saturday morning?

Normally, nobody. But this Saturday, it could have been any number of people. My dad did one of those old person things yesterday — he fell, and broke his femur. So he’s in hospital awaiting surgery. That could have been the reason somebody would call at 8:30 in the morning on a Saturday.

But this Saturday (did I mention it was 8:30? In the morning?), the voice on the other end had a distinctly American twang.

“Congratulations,” Yankee lady said. “You’ve registered for a trip to Disneyland, and you’ve ….”

This is where I cut her off. Or tried to. Earlier in the week, I got an identical call from a woman who blathered on about something having to do with “registering” for a trip to Disneyland, or something along those lines. I tried to interrupt her by asking what I registered for, and what it was that I had “won” (I assumed) or was being offered. But the woman didn’t stop talking. We were literally talking at exactly the same time, me asking questions and she talking without taking a breath from a prepared script. So, I hung up. I’m not normally that rude, but since she wasn’t responding to my questions, I didn’t feel too badly about it.

Saturday morning, different woman, same script. This time, I thought I’d ask some questions, but this time I’d try to get some answers.

But again, as I asked questions, the caller just carried on with her prepared script. Again, I talked over top of her, and she just kept talking. Instead of hanging up, I carried on. When she finally took a breath (I assume this was the part of the script where I was supposed to say, “Yes, sign me up for whatever this is! Here is my credit card number!”), I asked who she was phoning from. She said Disney, at which time I heard a weird sound, which I can only assume, was Walt spinning in his grave. Then I asked who I had registered with, and she then confirmed my postal code as evidence that I had registered with ‘Disney’. What did I win, I asked? She didn’t answer directly, never using the words ‘won’ or ‘prize’.  Then she practically demanded that I put my spouse on the other line to discuss the various packages that I was being given the rare privilege of purchasing. At least, that what I think was going on. The chick on the phone was so set in her script, so well trained, that nothing would get her off message. At this time, I decided that I had had enough fun, told her never to call my number again, and hung up.

I don’t know who these annoying people are, how they got my name or my phone number of my postal code. Something tells me they’ll be back.


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