Like many of you, I hate telemarketers.
They’re rude, pushy, obnoxious, won’t take no for an answer and always inevitably ring a) during dinner b) three seconds after the baby’s finally drifted off to sleep or c) right as you’re rushing out the door or have just begun sprinting for the can. If I had a dollar for every wet footstep left behind as I streaked through the house, towel flapping in the wind as I sped out of the shower expecting an important call only to be greeted by “Lawrence” of Arabia? Let’s just say Smith & Wesson wouldn’t have trouble making quarterly projections this year.
