The phone rings. I'm simultaneously making dinner and assisting in 4th grade geography homework. I pause in the middle of spelling 'Mediterranean' to grab the receiver.
The long pause and click announces a telemarketer better than a calling card.
The subsequent slaughtering of my surname confirms as much.
"Hello, ma'am. My name is Chuck. I'm calling from Windows tech support. This call is regarding your computer."
"That," I say, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich, "is highly unlikely."
There is a pause, during which I check the melting cheese.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, I appear-"
"You're sorry you have to work on Windows? I bet you are. You have my condolences on that point."
I shrug and slide the sandwiches on a plate. "-T-E-R-R-A-N-E-A-N".
Oh, more than likely. Either way, I had no problem messing with him a little bit. The line between unscrupulous salesmen and outright scammers is often a fuzzy one.
Ha, I love doing that!
My favourite was when LYM answered my phone when I was in hospital having just produced the wee man and the guy asked for Killer Pilots and assured us he could get me to the front page of Google. My poor pelvic floor had quite a job while I giggled silently listening to LYM quizzing the poor guy about the details.