Today we had two of those annoying robocalls from an 062 area code calling about an overdue credit account. That’s an average day for us. An overdue account? Malarky. Because Dearly Beloved pays the bills these days, I can say with confidence that we don’t HAVE an overdue credit card account. That is one of the benefits of retirement; he retired from work, I retired from writing the checks. Otherwise, I’d be out at the garbage can, arse in air, reaching in to find some bill I might have accidentally discarded.
The internet may not be gospel, but the last time I looked, there were 362,000 results for the 062 area code and those I scanned say that is an unused area code for southeast Asia and is associated with scams. An area code just for cheats? That sounds easy enough to fix, right?
Sure enough, there was a further entry from someone saying that her phone company will block 062 area code calls. Right on! Problem solved. . . let’s move on to the matter of the recession. But WAIT! I see that her phone company charges $4 per month for this service. EXCUSE ME???? They CHARGE their customers for the privilege of not being scammed on their equipment? Doesn’t that sound like. . . well. . . a scam?
When President Obama’s plate isn’t quite so full I’ll send him an e-mail (Don’t you just LOVE that Contact Us option?!) to suggest that we make robocalls about delinquent accounts illegal. Even if you try to straighten out one of these cases of mistaken identity, the first thing you’re required to do is enter your credit card number. My favorite line of the spiel was “You have four seconds to hang up if you’re not Mary Lee.” And just TRY reaching a live person! We need a bill to replace the robos with people-os to stimulate the economy and our general mental health.
When we lived in Wisconsin, our mailman assumed we were Chinese. In the South, they’d say, “Well, I guess y’all are related to Robert E. Lee.” No matter where we live, we get a lot of wrong numbers–for the English, Irish,Welsh, Chinese, Korean, or indeterminate Lees– so when someone calls to speak with Deadbeat Mary Lee and wants me to tell them my social security number to prove I’m NOT The Delinquent One, they’re barking up the wrong Lee.
It’s not like I’m married to Farquard or Zebadiah either. Try John. . . and don’t assume all of them pay their bills on time either. More wrong numbers.
Through the years we’ve had couple friends who were also named John and Mary. Once I was at a meeting and found myself at a table with two other women who were named Mary and married to men named John. Several times in the course of our conversation one of us would mention our spouse. We would say, “My John” this or that and after awhile, it began to strike me funny.
“Listen to us,” I said. “We must sound like prostitutes with all this talk about our Johns.”
One of the other Marys, oldest of our trio, shook her head. “Speak for yourself. I feel in need of a plumber.”