Since listing in the business directories and telephone books, I have become a magnet for every two-bit chancer with a phone and an internet connection.
Today, it is the turn of ufindus, who make an impressive start by asking for the wrong company. “Ah, that’s who I meant to call,” says telesales bod, unperturbed.
He goes on to outline the terribly catastophic situation that his company finds themselves in: how snowed under they are with people looking for accountants and would I like to help them out. After several more minutes of flannelling, telesales bod, cuts to the chase. I could be their area accountancy provider for the bargain sum of £299+VAT and then the extra-low monthly rate of £29+VAT on top
No thanks.
So, telesales bod confers with his boss and then says I can also have the adjoining geographical area, too, at no extra cost.
No thanks.
Another staged conflab later and, as if by magic, the £299 is halved.
No thanks.
But if you’re not happy, you can cancel at any time.
Do I get my money back, if I’m not happy, then?
Telesales bod gives a nervous laugh and pretends I haven’t spoken. Instead, he presses me to agree to “secure the area” for five days, although he doesn’t enlarge on what that actually means. I imagine white tape around the scene of the crime and agents with guns.
No thanks.
Then telesales bod gets a bit shirty and accuses me of both passing up a golden opportunity and wasting his time. Well, it is 14 minutes that neither of us will ever get back.
And then I get back to my life and the pressing matter of mashing the potatoes.