Louisiana Voice

There are a lot of telemarketing scams out there but there’s one that is particularly annoying—and illegal.

You get this call and a pre-recorded message tells you that you have been sent several messages. The authoritative woman’s voice then says, “This is the last notice you will get” to lower your credit card rate.

If that “last notice” bit were only true, it would not be necessary to be writing this post right now. I get the calls on my land line and my cell phone on virtually a daily basis.

They move around, so it’s all but impossible to track them down or to even file a complaint about them. Most of the calls originate from area codes in Utah and San Francisco and it does no good to put the number on the “do not call” list, because they simply ignore that. It also is futile to block the number because each call originates from a different number.

The calls are almost as irritating as all those automated political campaign calls during the recent election cycle, but at least you know the political solicitations are fraudulent. The credit card scam almost sounds convincing in its pre-recorded promise to lower your card’s interest rate to as low as 6 percent. All I have to do is press “1” to speak to a representative.

It’s nothing more than an identity theft scam designed to obtain your credit card number. Never, and I do mean never, give any personal information such as your social security number, bank account number or credit card number to any telephone solicitor. Repeat: any telephone solicitor. You’d do just as well by taking that Nigerian up on his email offer to dump $10 million into your bank account or falling for that European lottery you never entered but somehow managed to win.

There’s an old adage that says necessity is the mother of invention, so out of necessity, I had to either find a way to stop the calls or at least have some fun from it all. Since it is impossible to stop the daily afternoon nap interruptions, I had to find a way to make it fun, or at least somewhat entertaining.

At this point, it is probably useful to say that while my ploy was devised as a response to this particular scam—and it is a scam, make no mistake about it—it’s good for any telemarketer who has the audacity to interrupt Dancing with the Stars to pitch some product or service to you.

I first tried a tactic with female telemarketers only. I would let them get about halfway into their spiel and then interrupt in the sleaziest voice I could conjure with, “What are you wearing?” It always worked with female solicitors; they couldn’t hang up quickly enough, but unfortunately, most of the calls came from males, so I changed to a practice I now use with all unwanted callers.

I went to the local Holy Shrine (Wal-Mart, to the less erudite) and purchased a cheap referee’s whistle—the same kind that football and basketball officials use—and put it on my key chain.

Now, I actually look forward to the calls. I always press “1.”

As soon as someone comes on the line, I deliver an ear-piercing blast right into the phone. They usually hang up immediately but occasionally, they will respond. On one recent call from the friendly credit card scam people, a man’s voice offered to place my whistle in the nether regions of my anatomy “if I knew where you lived.” Ironic, isn’t it, alluding to his inability to determine my location when they depend on anonymity for survival–and to avoid prosecution?

On another, a woman came on the line and, after the initial blast, said simply, “That’s really cute.” I blasted again. “Cute,” she said again.

“Well, I can do this as long as you can,” I responded. Another blast.

She left me with a verb and a pronoun before hanging up.

It’s nice to know we can get under their skin, too.

The only problem is when I get one of those calls while I’m driving. With the key in the ignition, it’s difficult to get to the whistle without wrecking.