We are now members of the Telephone Preference Service, which mean that we no longer get cold called by telemarketers and associated buggers and bastards trying to sell us crap we don't want, just as we're settling down to Neighbours of an evening.
This, however, is not entirely accurate. There are so many loopholes in the scheme, that just about any company on the planet can give you an unwanted buzz because you accidentally ticked a box on an order form three years ago. And then there's all the companies they own. We're talking about you, Lloyds TSB. So, while we don't get the buggers calling us on a regular basis, they still ring once or twice a week.
I've given up telling them to bugger off. The phrase "We're members of the TPS, and you're in trouble" usually has them hanging up in a blind panic before you even finish the sentence, but there is little or no fun to be had in that anymore.
These days, I just leave them to Mrs Duck, who no longer tells them that the people living here are dead, or Albanian, or in prison, because they don't believe her. Instead, we just resort to sarcasm.
Telemarketer: "What would you say if I told you that you get free doors with every set of replacement windows you order?"
Mrs Duck: "I would tell you to get a proper job."
Telemarketer: "But… it's a once-in-a-lifetime offer!"
Mrs Duck: "So is listening at school, mate. Don't ring back."
She's a gem, that Mrs Duck.
Tell me phone pest avoidance tactics: HERE.