Andrew Kay puts it all on the line
Those first minutes on returning from a day at work have to be amongst the most precious of times. Not because anything important happens, simply because it is the moment in which you can wind down and relax. But of late that has not been so easy.
Since moving to the beautiful Sussex Square, those precious moments have been punctuated by unsolicited calls. Many of them appear to be international which immediately makes me think call centre, some are definitely from the UK, and a large percentage when the phone is answered simply go dead. It’s annoying to say the least when all you want to do is kick off your shoes and pit your wits against the Eggheads.
“My task is to rid my evening of rude intruders of the telephonic kind”
I experienced this once before when I lived in sexy Saltdean (it was sexy despite me and not because of me, I hasten to add). Back then I made a few enquiries and eventually discovered I could request to be put on a register of people who did not wish to receive cold calls from people selling services I had not requested.
It worked too, not completely but I did see a marked reduction in the number of calls. So now I have to do the same again, find out who to call and request that I go off the radar of firms who want to sell me random services that I have no interest in.
That will be my task for the weekend, to rid my early evening of rude intruders of the telephonic kind.
Annoyingly though, they now seem to have my mobile number and I am getting a stupid number of calls from companies who want to sell me investments in the fine wines of Bordeaux. Now, do I look like the kind of man who has spare cash lashing about to invest in weighty reds? No, I do not. I like a nice bottle of red and I can be tempted to pay over the odds for a bottle of my favourite wines, a St Estephe perhaps or even a bottle of Chateau Musar from the Lebanon. But not a case of something for £1,000 with the promise that even if it does not go up in price I can still drink the stuff, and owing to a tax loophole it is not due death duty on my demise. Well, it’s not that cheery a thought, is it?
I like the phone, at home and about town, but I see it as an aid to my work and a means of staying in touch with family and friends – and anyone else who happens upon my numbers will receive the short sharp “no thank you” that I reserve for the unsolicited.
