Without a shadow of a doubt, robocalls are the worst thing since the invention of the call centre. Barack Obama may have used them to great effect during the presidential election campaign, but I reckon that they must be the nearest you can get to telephonic purgatory.
So what are they?
Robocalls are like call centre agents, except that they don't get paid or take breaks. Just like with their human precursors, the telephone number is selected and dialled automatically by the system. But in sharp contrast to their flesh-and-blood counterparts, robocalls are just recordings that play back about a second after you pick up the phone. Perhaps there's even a clever voice-activated ("Hello?" = go) mechanism that prevents them leaving messages on your answering machine.
One distinct disadvantage vis-à-vis the invariably college student call centre agent is that the recipient/victim of a robocall cannot vent his fury in a way that will have any neurone-triggering effect whatsoever. If it annoys you that you get a robocall, tough luck. The system couldn't care less. Shouting, screaming, smashing your telephone or thinking up snide remarks will help you not one iota. Robocalls are impervious, unfeeling ... well ... machines.
After months of seething frustration at this most mindless of marketing exercises, I have now stumbled upon a solution (O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!): the moment the robotic voice begins its inane pitch, you hit the number "5" on your keypad. The result? Your telephone number is removed from the system's database.
And the rest is silence - at least until the next call centre robocalls you.
So what are they?
Robocalls are like call centre agents, except that they don't get paid or take breaks. Just like with their human precursors, the telephone number is selected and dialled automatically by the system. But in sharp contrast to their flesh-and-blood counterparts, robocalls are just recordings that play back about a second after you pick up the phone. Perhaps there's even a clever voice-activated ("Hello?" = go) mechanism that prevents them leaving messages on your answering machine.
One distinct disadvantage vis-à-vis the invariably college student call centre agent is that the recipient/victim of a robocall cannot vent his fury in a way that will have any neurone-triggering effect whatsoever. If it annoys you that you get a robocall, tough luck. The system couldn't care less. Shouting, screaming, smashing your telephone or thinking up snide remarks will help you not one iota. Robocalls are impervious, unfeeling ... well ... machines.
After months of seething frustration at this most mindless of marketing exercises, I have now stumbled upon a solution (O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!): the moment the robotic voice begins its inane pitch, you hit the number "5" on your keypad. The result? Your telephone number is removed from the system's database.
And the rest is silence - at least until the next call centre robocalls you.
No comments:
Post a Comment