“Thank you for calling SpectraCom, my name is Rubin. Can I have your ten-digit phone number, please?”
“716 555 2029.”
“Thank you, please hold... (muted: “God damn it!”) Please hold while I access your account... (sigh) Thank you for holding... Who am I speaking with right now?”
“My name is Vincent Calhoun, and I live at...”
“No, Mr. Calhoun.”
“No what?’
(Sigh) “What could I possibly do for you today, Mr. Calhoun?”
“Well, SpectraCom owes me some money, and I would like to have it sent to me.”
“Mr. Calhoun, how many times have you called about this?”
“I don’t know, about...”
“Mr. Calhoun, you and I have personally spoken five times now. I’ve told you five times that you won’t get that refund. I see notes from one... two... three other people who have turned you down. One person even put it through and it was rejected. Are you going to get the hint? You are not going to get that money. Ever. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. That money belongs to SpectraCom, not Vincent Calhoun. Therefore, Vincent Calhoun will never see that money. Ever. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”
“But it’s mine!”
“No, Mr. Calhoun, it is not. Now please hang up the phone and don’t bother us again. Okay?”
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