A friend was standing nearby recently when I took a call from a telephone solicitor, the kind of exchange I have learned to keep short and satisfying - for me. My friend quickly requested a written transcript of my response. Here was a woman whose dinner had been interrupted one time too many, as most of us have had since dialing for dollars came into vogue. I get no less than 8 calls a week from these people, whose job it is to make sure I got their corporate client's press release.
Good ones keep the exchange quick and courteous.
Bad ones, like the native New Yawker who rang almost daily to see if I had printed his material yet, do not. On his final call, I recognized that increasingly exasperated nasal twang. The sense of empowerment I got from his response was remarkable, though I wanted to guard against getting too sassy. Another flack called during the noon hour. Being forced to dine at my own desk that day made me a bit tenacious.