My landline rang. A pleasant English female voice asked me to confirm my name and then said they had a record that I had been receiving large numbers of unwanted calls and could I confirm this.
This displays a rather breathtakingly high volume of chutzpah - easily up to 11 on the conman scale (not to be confused with the conran scale which measures the pretentiousness of design in upmarket shops like Bivouac). Here is a nuisance caller, someone who is calling me despite my registration with the toothless old watchdog known as the Telephone Preference Service not to receive such calls, ringing to pretend that she had the solution. I did not need to hear her sales pitch. I know that she was either about to offer to install a "box" for £89 plus a monthly charge of £1.99 or so and all that said box would do is...well, nothing. Or she would claim to be able to reregister me with the TPS for a fee (for a service which is free). So instead of replying to her question I politely said she obviously hadn't checked that we were registered and maybe she had better get off the line without delay. Off she went.
What next?
Scene: Me peacefully at home. The phone rings
Me: 34567889 (not my number but close enough)
Caller: Mr. Commuter?
Me: (cautiously) Yes (thinks, can't be the bookies, I paid "Big" Freddy off last week)
Caller: We understand you have been receiving nuisance calls from people trying to sell solutions to receiving nuisance calls and it just so happens we have the solution here. For just £200 plus £10 a week we guarantee to tut very loudly and sympathise every time you call us to say you have had one of these intrusive and timewasting calls,
Me: Absolutely brilliant, I'll take two.
FIN
As soon as I can line up Stephen Fry to play the caller, we're off to the West End with this one.
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