Good afternoon, could I interest you in…

And the calls keep coming.

They never quit. Folks concerned about the state of my auto warranty. Folks worried about the condition of my roof. Folks passionate to assure me of the very best in health care coverage.

They never quit. I envision tireless banks of Dial-O-Matics programmed with my personal digits churning away day and night, flooding the cybersphere with urgent missives ostensibly intended to ease my lot, better my prospects and woo a bit of filthy lucre from my accounts to theirs.

And thanks to Caller ID, I pretty much ignore them all. It’s truly a wonder of the age – a vast improvement over the bad old days where one felt compelled to respond to each and every random ringy-dingy with a querulous, “Hello?”

Nowadays my “Hellos” are pretty well reserved for the familiar names flashing up on my smartphone screen. As for the rest, well, most go wherever such unwanted digital emissaries end up … or at least the fortunate ones.

It’s a telemarketer’s occupational hazard to inadvertently ring u an old fart on a quiet afternoon, lunch digested, nap taken, the remainder of the day’s agenda jam-packed with nothing at all. Yeah, dial my number when I am well rested, unoccupied, in a good mood and that unsuspecting fellow becomes a potential source of amusement.

Should it be near to naptime and I’m feeling a bit soporific following my post-prandial snooze I may play the ramble game – pick up the phone, say “Hello,” and see how long he rambles on without so much as a grunt of encouragement from my end. When he finally reaches the end of his wits and pleads, “Mr. Christenson, are you still there?” I’ll give a little snort and explain, “Sorry, dozed off for a moment. Could you go over that again, please?”

He probable will. Two or three times. It’s more fun than teasing the cat.

But he’s lucky. I could have been interested. ‘Cuz when I get interested, I get really, really interested. It’s active listening with a vengeance.

I figure since they know my name, I should know theirs. So I ask.

I figure since they know where I live, I should know where they live. So I ask.

Now that we’ve established a personal relationship, it’s time for me to share my life…and intrude on theirs.’

So I ask them about the weather, then tell them how it’s been around here. Let ‘em know cars start so much better at 10 below now they’ve all got computerized fuel injection and we don’t have to spray starting fluid at the carburetor anymore. I ask ‘em if they’ve gotten much snow and tell how my neighbor saves my back when he comes across the street with his big two-stage to blow out my corner after the plow comes by.

I’ll ask if he has a dog.

The less persistent hang up. The dedicated try to steer me back to business.

That’s fine with me. As an active listener, I’m actively interested in their business. And I have a lot of questions.

So the political solicitor better know where his candidate stands on import quotas for Costa Rican mangoes, because I’m certain to ask.

If he’s pitching shares in a solar energy project, I’ll be sure to inquire as to the array’s  country of origin, details of the cross purchase contracts with conventional power suppliers, the sub-wattage rating of the infrastructural downlinks and whether I get a free tote bag if I sign up…and in what colors.

And if he has answers, I’ll have more questions. Do you like strawberries? What’s your shoe size?

By the time he hangs up it’s like I’ve made a new friend…one who I’ll never, ever hear from again.

Which is why his number won’t take up space on my contacts list.

I just hope I brightened up his day every bit as much as he intended to brighten mine. Maybe even a little more.