The Funeral Diaries, Interlude
Here's a phone call I got on the day of my grandmother's funeral.
"Hello, is Gene there?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Are you Gene?"
"Um... No. I'm his grandson, his wife just died and I'm here for the funeral."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry to hear that, but I'm calling to offer you a great deal on satellite television. Do you know if he has cable?"
Insert here the sound of my jaw hitting the floor.
"Because we're offering a package with local channels, sports channels, and movie channels--"
"Um, could you--"
"Do you know what he's paying for cable right now?"
"I... I have no idea--"
"Because we can save you an average of 20 to 40 dollars per month, and--"
"Look, I hate to cut you off, but I've got a funeral to get to."
"Oh. [Pause] Have a nice day."
Okay, look. I realize you're a telemarketer, which means your life isn't quite turning out the way you wanted it to, but seriously: What the hell, lady? When the words "death" and "funeral are brought up, that's pretty much your cue to knock it off.
Unless you're selling coffins or burial plots, in which case it's a great icebreaker.