I lost my job just as the pandemic hit, so I needed to scramble to make a living. I moved into my parents’ basement, so I didn’t have a rent payment, but finding a job wasn’t easy. I ended up taking a job as a telemarketer. Yes, one of THOSE PEOPLE. I learned that I was pretty good at it, and soon my boss let me work from my bed in my parents’ basement. Pretty cool, huh? It was.
I was assigned a calling list with international numbers. It was fun cold-calling people from all over the world to sell them cemetery plots. I never knew that people from all over want to invest in American real estate. I guess there is a lot of uncertainty in the world, and folks just want to be prepared.
I kept track of the calls I made; after all, I got paid by the call and a bonus for every sale. In my first several months I called Switzerland eight times, Tajikistan thirteen times, Angola twice, Maldives seven times, New Caledonia five times, Qatar fifteen times, Vietnam nine times, and Chatham Island, New Zealand once.
I was doing pretty well and winter was coming. I didn’t want to spend my time in the chilly North.
I moved out West, but I kept my cushy job and kept calling.
In my last several months I called Israel twenty three times, Italy seven times, Lithuania three times, Guadeloupe twice, Liechtenstein four times, Mexico twenty times, Turkey once, and Netherlands once.
I said that I was pretty good at telemarketing, and I was, but it didn’t last. I got over-confident and started intimidating potential customers. I told them that they may need a grave sooner rather than later. I said that, “I know a guy . . . “ My boss was not amused. I had to move back to my parents’ basement.
Placed & maintained by a proud Lake Superior member of
Michigan Geocaching Organization!
Geocaching since October 20, 2001
