Cold calling

Ding dong on my doorbell at ten to eleven this morning. Cue young gentleman wearing sharp pinstriped suit, black hornrimmed glasses, overpowering amounts of aftershave and a sickly grin. "Good morning, I represent Doodah Electric and would like to talk to you about changing your electricity supplier!" No thank you very much, said I as I attempted to edge the door closed. Out came a foot which was jammed in my door. "I think you'll find that we are the best electricity supplier in the world and would undercut your current electricity bill by many many pounds" (I'm paraphrasing here you understand). "And I think you'll find that we are perfectly happy with our current electricity supplier and don't wish to change it".

"Is the man of the house in?" This really gets my goat, as if the Little Woman is unable to make any "important" decisions.

"No, the man of the house is out at work at the moment and would not speak to you anyway, even if he were here"

"Let me show you some literature that will underline exactly what Doodah Electric can do for you" this comment was accompanied by a move towards actually forcing open my front door and entering my house.

"Let me show you my three dogs who would quite happily do something for you that may require a visit to the nearest A&E department if you step one unsolicited foot inside my property." Happily all three woofers were barking in the background at this point.

"Thank you for your time" said Doodah Electric man as he beat a hasty retreat.

To reassure you, all three dogs were in the garden barking at Nero, Marjorie Stewart's cat who has taken to sitting on the fence just out of their reach and doing the feline equivalent of a "yah boo sucks to you" gesture. If I had Doodah Electric man on the premises, Senior Dog would be frisking him for Polo's, Middle Dog would be sniffing his shoes and Junior Dog would be dribbling all over him.

Fade in, fade out to quarter to four this afternoon. I had broken my neck to get in the door to answer the ringing phone, falling over Junior Dog and Mac who has taken to dawdling along while singing the theme tune to Postman Pat.

"Hello!" I said breathlessly. "Good afternoon madam, I'm calling from Voodoo Phone and would like to offer you the chance of upgrading to a brand new Raspberry" said a cheery female voice. "No thank you, I'm perfectly happy (hah!) with my current mobile phone and provider" I said, already to cut off my cold caller.

"Yes but with a Raspberry you can manage your life effortlessly with......" "My life would still be unmanaged, even if I had a crack team of Personal Assistants managing my every move" I cut in and advised her that I was going to hang up. Which I did. Not 30 seconds later she rang back. "We must have got cut off!" she chirruped. "No we didn't, I cut you off. Kindly go away." I added as I hung up again, muttering. The phone rang again and I ignored it, singing "lalalala, can't hear you!". When I'd finished I overheard Mac telling Senior Dog that "mummy has lost it".

Again, more fading out and more fading in until just as we were sitting down to dinner. Ding dong on the doorbell. David got up to answer it and the same overpowering stench of aftershave pervaded the kitchen. "No thank you" I heard David say firmly as I called out "The dogs are here and they haven't had their dinner yet!".

David returned to the table, a mystified look on his face. "He was just getting into his spiel about Doodah Electric when he heard you, went pale and practically vaulted the gate."

I'm waging a cold war against cold callers.