One day I was minding my own business when the phone rang.
“May I speak to Wilbur?” the caller asked.
I told him he had the wrong number. He said, “Well, maybe you can help me,” and pivoted into a sales pitch anyway. I hung up.
Weeks later, the same voice called again. “May I speak to Wilbur?”
This time I just hung up.
Weeks later, again: “Wilbur?”
I replied, “I’m sorry, Wilbur passed away last night.”
The caller apologized and promised to remove my number.
But he didn’t.
Weeks later, the same man called again.
I reminded him, “Wilbur died last time… and he died again last night.”
Another apology, another promise.
Still, he didn’t stop.
Finally, weeks later, the same voice asked for Wilbur yet again.
I said, “Hang on just a minute.”
After a pause, I told him, “I’m sorry, Wilbur’s having sex right now, but he’ll be done in a minute.”
This time, the telemarketer hung up on me.
And that was the last I ever heard from him.
Takeaway
Sometimes persistence meets parody. Wilbur may have died twice and lived again — happily, I might add — but in the end, the telemarketer finally gave up
