AT&T: Leave me alone
An ultra-irritating sales prick knocked on our door at least three times Tuesday. I was working in the basement the first time, and the den the second. Each time I interrupted my activities only to see the prick departing by the time I got to the door.
Persistent fucker, but not patient.
He's the latest tool of AT&T's annual up-sell ritual, working on commission.
We subscribe to their DSL. So they already know we have crap internet. They know where we live and how much time we spend online. From their perspective, they've got us over a barrel. No doubt he had our information right there on his clipboard.
Like a lot of small-time criminals who take jobs hustling, this guy tried to engage me in small talk. "You travel a lot?" he asked, pointing to our RV.
That was weird, considering my opening "what are you selling?" should have directed him to the point, and strongly indicated the futility of cold-sell sales tactics learned in his marketing seminar.
To make it clear, I said, "I'm not interested in small talk. I'm sure you're a nice person. What are you selling?"
"I am a nice person," he chimed.
Oh shit.
No you dit int.
What's especially irksome about this encounter is that it takes place where I live. Eventually, tragedy and outrage will put an end to this routine. Some slightly crazy, or sociopathic freak will get a canvassing job for AT&T, fail to take no for an answer, and then reprise an unpleasant encounter in the form of retaliatory vandalism, or aggravated battery. If the customer is a pretty girl, he'll come back later for something else. With access to her usage records, he knows when she'll be home, and what time she's likely to be asleep.
How many times must I participate in this ritual? I tell them I'm not interested, and they keep sending people to bother me. They fill the mailbox with flyers (on non-recycled glossy paper).
They're a communications company. They have our information. Why do they risk pissing us off to the point of angry-column writing?
Because they can.
Comcast is not competitive. We have no other option for DSL service, as of now. I hope that changes soon. If there were competition for wired internet, AT&T might provide a competitive product, and then fucking leave us alone.
You travel a lot?
**shudder**
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Okay, almost 24 hours later and I finally got Issac’s Summer joke. I’m an idiot.
Swap the dog for a fire pit and it sounds like you’re writing about my back yard. Very nice.
funny, as your summer begins, another Summer ends.
And that, my friend, is love. Bob, I think I still owe you for my wedding cake, served in 1998. But nevermind.
I believe the kiss between Rob and I was documented on low-quality videotape in the mid-ninties porn classic, Dirty Harry…and Sticky.
“Do I have to sign some forms, or am I just considered ‘in.’” You’re in!
Got damn, Coulter. You are the greatest.
I have no specific memory of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d kissed Mike, too—once we’d both drunk ourselves gay. And earlier this week I gave Clarence Shelley a back rub. Do I have to sign some forms, or am I just considered “in.”
FWIW, I got a copy of the letter in question. It was written in a way that would be plausible to a casual reader who didn’t scrutinize it too carefully. It announced the formation of an organization called G.L.A.B.A. (which actually exists), and had discussion about typical…
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Oh nice! I’d totally vote for Matt Campbell!
“Smile Politely sports writer announces candidacy for city government.”
I also got to visit Big Grove Tavern during the soft open and definitely enjoyed the pork belly the most of all the dishes I sampled. The cheesy grits and the vinegary pickled vegetables were a perfect compliment to the rich pork belly.
The Alan Partridge lookalike on the right in the first small photo has nothing to condescend to anyone about. AH HA!
Snell and the little Hitlers of the neighborhood association need to chill out. Legitimate businesses should have the freedom to exist without having to endure the slings and arrows of ignorant and misguided opposition.
represent, Matt.
Yeah, I’d agree that Transporter Room 3 is the worst house venue I’ve ever seen.
Food trucks are the start-up, small businesses of the future for those unable to afford real estate. No surprise, that merchants who pay rent, utilities, and maintenance on a property would despise the traveling competition. Or developers who build more empty retail spaces would want to close…
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*slow. clap.* Still offering no threat of intelligence…. I know I said I thought you should just write this whole column yourself next year, Isaac, but now that you’ve gone and taken a “part deux” run at it, I’d like to modify my request: Best Music 2013,…
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What? Echo! (Echo!) Where’s the dischord and dissent?
This weekend will mark the first appearance of Kayla Brown’s Fire Doll Candle booth at the Market. Check it: http://www.facebook.com/firedollcandles
And without bloodshed. Sounds like the Savoy trustees aren’t as narrow-minded as some of their whiny pants constituents. Do you think quack Snell is already planning an asinine counterattack or is he still laying low after those “threats” against his person?
hey, if hair ain’t gon’ be over your head, my jokes may as well be.
Okay, almost 24 hours later and I finally got Issac’s Summer joke. I’m an idiot.
Excellent. I am glad sometimes American dreams are encouraged, rather than stifled.
Swap the dog for a fire pit and it sounds like you’re writing about my back yard. Very nice.
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hey, if hair ain’t gon’ be over your head, my jokes may as well be.