Here is what happens if you take the call! I didn't write this. It is from Salon.com
"It was a cold, grey, day in Nashville. A hard rain beat against my window like a punk drummer on ecstasy as I leaned back in my chair and studied the cobwebs in the corner. Business was slow. Then the phone rang, like they sometimes do.
“Hello! This is Rachel from Cardholder Services! There are no problems with your credit card account but it’s important that you act fast in order to reduce your interest rates.”
I was so captivated by her sultry voice that I could hardly speak. Out of all the phone numbers, in all the towns, in all the world, she had to call mine. I wasn’t about to tell such a swell dame that all my credit cards had been cancelled due to non-payment.
“Rachel,” I said, “My interest rate is very high in hearing you tell me more about this. Perhaps we could meet for a cocktail at Joe’s Bar—you know the one, down by the waterfront.” At first she was hesitant, but after a little sweet talking I convinced her to meet me at 7 o’clock.
I was there in my usual back booth tossing down a boilermaker when she walked in. Conversation stopped and every head turned to look as she paused in the doorway. She had a smile as bright as a brand new penny, a dress as tight as a salesman’s grip, and legs that went all the way down to the floor. “Hello,” she said, “You must be Frank. May I sit down?”
Rachel slid into the booth close to me, put her hand on my leg, and cooed in my ear, “Ooh, I bet you have a really big credit score.” My heart started beating like the L.A. cops on Rodney King, but then I noticed that she had a calculator stuffed into her décolletage. “I really like it when a man tells me his birth date and social security number,” she said.
My head was swimming from the combination of her perfume and the rotgut whiskey I’d been drinking, but I was starting to think Rachel was trying to scam me. She wiggled a little closer. “You seem like you wouldn’t mind things going down—like your interest rate,” she said. I moved her hand off of my leg. “Rachel,” I said, “You seem like a sweet kid who maybe got mixed up with the wrong people. But I ain’t buying what you’re selling.”
She stood up quickly, her face flushed. “You bastard!” she screamed. “You’re just like all the others, paying exorbitant credit card rates, hanging up on me every time I call. Well, don’t worry. You won’t be hearing from me again!” And with that, she stomped out of the bar and out of my life.
But she was wrong. I did hear from her again. Every night, right when I’m sitting down to dinner, the phone rings and I know it’s her. “Hello! This is Rachel from Cardholder Services!” she chirps, and I slowly hang up.
We could’a had something special, me and Rachel. But that was before I found out she’s as cold as a banker’s heart. Fortunately, I just got a call that will take my mind off her.
I’ve won an all-expenses paid trip to Florida Lakes Time Shares! "