An Offer From Ms. Nobody

“Hello, is this Her-shell Loomis?”

Only because I’m in my Laboratory Mode did I answer with a semblance of civility the unprepared caller…and the unprepared company that hired her…didn’t deserve.

“This is Mr. Lewis.”

“Her-shell, I’m calling because you made a purchase online, and we want to thank you.”

Out of pure cussedness: “You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

“Uh, oh, uh, yes, we want to thank you by offering you a twenny-dollar gift.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Uh, uh, you have this gift because you made a purchase.”

“What did I purchase?” (I hate salespeople who use purchase as a generic noun.)

“Uh, I don’t have that information right here.”

“Then how do you know I made a purchase?”

By this time she was thoroughly derailed, so I said, in a kindlier tone than an unprepared telemarketer or her employer justified, “I don’t think I’m a good prospect for you,” and hung up.

Equally nonplused was one of the many “Git” callers. I’ve awarded all these folks the “Git” appellation because they can’t pronounce “Get” as “Get.” The most recent “Git” caller began with the rapport-inducing, “Hello, Herschell? How’d you like to git a month’s supply of cosmetics, free of any charge whatsoever?”

Should I tell him (yes, it was a he) how to pronounce “Get”? Should I point out that “beauty aids” sounds less antique Egyptian than “cosmetics”? Should I alert him to the reality that my cosmetics probably will come from an embalmer? Should I ask why his script included “whatsoever”? Nah. I took the high road. I hung up.

Still, I prefer the Git-Guy to Ms. Nobody — the recorded telemarketer tortuously reading a deadly script, uncaring of who or what may have picked up the phone:

“This is a special offer for two days only. We are offering a $24.95 special on your carpet and tile. This is an offer that may not be repeated. Please stay on the line and…” My question about this one isn’t why whoever is paying for it doesn’t employ a selling voice instead of a marble-mouthed girlfriend; rather, it concerns the entire bulk theory of telemarketing. When you’re in this most personal of all direct media, an impersonal announcement may be economically sound but philosophically disastrous, ammunition for those who want to throttle the entire medium.

Incredible, isn’t it, with all the heat legislators are putting on telemarketing, the beleaguered industry still is a mess of fits and starts…calls beginning with the antediluvian “How are you today?” or “This is a survey” or “This is not a sales call” (a finalist in the “Great Lies” competition)…pitches that resemble an old steam locomotive, rods and wheels thrashing and grinding, trying to get under way.

This very day, sensitized to unsolicited calls, I picked up the phone after someone else had answered the ring and, laughing, came into my office. “Punch the button on line one.”

Dead air. Then: “Hello. Please hold for the first available representative. It’s important that we speak with you. We’ll be with you shortly.”

“That recording played twice before I came into your office,” I was told. Heck, that was nothing. At about 15-second silent intervals it played three more times before a “live” (I’m using a euphemism here) representative came on the line, asking to speak with “Mr. or Mrs.” Now, hold it. You said, five or six times, while I hung breathlessly waiting for word from Mount Olympus, “It’s important that we speak with you.” Mr. or Mrs. Who? If you don’t know whom you’re calling, importance diminishes a bit, doesn’t it?

The funniest call I’ve had in the past telemarketing-loaded three months was one from the local carrier, BellSouth. Get this: The call was a telemarketing pitch for something called Privacy Director, which “lets you accept or decline the call.” On it rambles, professionally structured but unprofessionally conceived. They’ll waive the usual $19.95 connection charge and bill just $1.95 per month.

So it’s the perfect oxymoron — a telemarketing call selling a way to avoid telemarketing. Sheesh! Take the “oxy” off that word “oxymoron.”

Incidentally, somebody ought to tell all these phone companies that the typical user doesn’t like the phrase “connection charge,” waived or not. The word “connection” can be deadly, suggesting undesired permanence, especially when they’re talking about trial periods.

I’ve written as many telemarketing pitches as anybody, and occasionally I’ve been the lucky sharer of comparative results. Are you surprised that a straightforward, businesslike approach, explaining quickly and confidently what’s being offered without phony b.s. stroking, tends to generate two pleasant results? If you’re surprised, you’re not of our world.

One of those pleasant results is obvious: greater response. That, after all, is the way we should be keeping score.

The second pleasant result is somewhat more subtle: reduced turnover in personnel. Some telemarketing companies expect and realize a 400 to 500 percent annual turnover. If any other contemporary business, including the Mafia and Web consultants, experienced that kind of inhuman resources problem, it would soon perish from the cost of maintaining an impossible superstructure.

A byproduct of improved telemarketing results might be a cadre of phone solicitors who actually can speak coherent English.

Naaah…that’s an impossible dream.

Git outta here.

HERSCHELL GORDON LEWIS is the principal of Lewis Enterprises in Fort Lauderdale, FL. He consults with and writes direct response copy for clients worldwide. Among his 26 books are “Marketing Mayhem” and “Effective E-mail Marketing.”