Dialogue: Take this personally, caller, now is not a good time

By SANDY BURGHAM

Is that Sandy Burgham?" asked the caller.

"Yes."

"Am I talking to the key decision-maker in your business?"

"Ah yes, I guess so."

"Are you interested in financial planning and saving for your retirement?"

"Yes, I mean we sort of have to take an interest right?"

Ignoring my question, the stranger who sounded strangely familiar then launched into a rehearsed spiel about how I could save chunks on our mortgage and generally be rich, free and happy. Excellent.

Without taking breath she read out three paragraphs of a sales pitch written in the hope that I would be persuaded into signing up and inviting a nameless, faceless consultant into our home.

Since she was liberal with her use of cellphone minutes I guessed the company must have been making heaps of dough.

But something told me this girl had about as much knowledge of financial planning as my 18-month-old, and about as much integrity as a piece of lint.

"Look hang on a moment, this all sounds great. But let me ask you, do you actually work for this company?" I enquired.

"Well ... "

"Or are you a telemarketer?"

"[pause] Okay, I'm a telemarketer," she confessed.

Ah, gotcha. Telemarketers. How do they sleep at night?

I put the phone down, suspicious that she was the same one who had called about sending disabled kids to Disneyland and the small charity for that mysterious disease. Maybe she was the one who wanted to shampoo one room of the house for free.

The latter is the telemarketing classic. My friend was convinced that she could have someone remove all those grubby stains from the carpet at no cost to her while she prepared dinner for the kids and then went for a jog. She even willingly gave them my name when asked who else might be interested. They then insidiously used her as a personal referee.

It is the insincerity of telemarketing that gets me. They assume that all I want is a good deal. And that's not the case. I can be sold to, cajoled and moulded to buy just about anything if I am convinced the person is personally recommending it, is passionate about the product or the cause and really thinks my signing up will improve my life or the world somehow.

But by the very nature of the call, the connection is not made with telemarketers, who seem to be paid to do and say anything.

But how successful are they?

Tremendously so, I hear, since I guess the strike rate makes it worth it in the end. I guess the profit on one yes is worth the 50 nos, but I am still left with a less favourable impression of the company from this first interchange.

The use of impersonal telephone services spells trouble for me. Like call centres, the factories of the new millennium, they just serve to drive another wedge between me and the companies I deal with.

Recently my bank manager arranged a VIP carpark for us before a meeting. It was all very impressive since he opened it with a remote control from his window when he saw us coming.

It was delightfully over-the-top. I swung in to the bank like the Sultan of Brunei.

Unfortunately, upon leaving he forgot to open it again. When I rang the central number and said somewhat naively, "hey can you get David to open the carpark door?" I got the classic "I am sorry I am just the call centre, what city are you in?"

It sort of ruined the moment.

I was trained in fob-off strategies at an early age - if religious people came to the door, Mum would hide in the lounge while I, a pre-schooler, would trot out and say "mum's not home at the moment".

"When will she be home?" they would ask. "I dunno, I'll just go ask her."

Maybe this early training has led me to create fanciful excuses such as: "you are calling right on dinner time", "I am on the way out", "on the other line" to rid me of the interchange.

But next time they press me for the best time to call I shall simply say "there isn't one, nor will there ever be".