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All I Want Is $100,000 Up Front – Is That Asking Too Much?

What are they going to do when I get into the finer details?

So – this happened.

I answered the phone yesterday. There was a five second delay which (really) lets you know you are in a queue. Suspicion created.

A garbled voice ( I honestly couldn’t tell if I was experiencing an accent different from mine, or if they were in a large room with lots of speakers – I suspect both at the same time) inquired about my book, using the correct title. Gotta admit, that did catch my attention.

Was I the author?

Yes?

Did I want to sell a lot of books?

Yes.

They could do it!

Then, what I assume was a company name, was mentioned. I never did hear the name distinctly enough to know what it was, though mentioned four or five times. It was never clear what its function would be.

But – you know – they mentioned the title -correctly- a number of times.  And, in all truth, I figure I should be making more money.

So, I asked questions. Not very deep questions, but I should know something.

They seemed to know next-to-nothing about the publishing world. They did concentrate on “promotion”, which would, I readily admit, help.

World-wide promotion. Somehow.

So, knowing that they had a stellar product to sell, I just went to the end result. I would consider their proposals for the up-front price of $100,000. A nice round figure. Easy to remember. I could picture the cheque.

This seemed to confuse them.

A few more entreaties were made. An additional publishing term or two. Alas, it was still all garbled. I pointed out that I could still not fully understand them.

I noted they made no counter-offer (not that it would have done any good). $100,000 SVP.

So, I was told to wait until I could speak with a supervisor.

The supervisor did not seem to have an individual office. Same garble and/or background noise.

How could he help?

$!00.000 please. I was tempted to add (and I’m all yours). But I did not (though surely it was implied).

The call ended.

Since there seemed to be no knowledge of traditional publishing (which is how my book is published) I assume this con is directed to Indie authors. Beware, y’alls.

DE

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Am I On A List? Is This A Test?

Yesterday morning I had a robot call me and ask inappropriate and intrusive questions about my plans for voting in the upcoming Federal Election. After a few questions, I hung up.


This morning, an early morning call (too early) informed me that whilst I was at innocent slumber between the sheets,  someone had made two BIG purchases using my credit card. These two BIG purchases exceeded my limit (which I assumed could not happen in the first place).  This time an actual human voice wanted to “assist” me before the charges went through and I ended up paying for everything. I was left in NO doubt I’d end up paying for EVERYTHING. I was in deep shit. Warning as clear as a bell.


But first, the actual human voice wanted some information.


Go and get your card, I was instructed.

No, said I.

You will pay BIG, said he. Get your card and give us your account information.


I did not point out, though I was tempted to do so, that they must already have all my information, since they called me with this DIRE warning. Perhaps, I pondered to myself, they themselves could cancel the card. Wipe out the BIG debt. Chase the perpetrator across hill and, er, dale , and throw them in the clink.


Get your card. Get your card. Give me the numbers.

No.


Then he hung up on me.

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Surprising Phone Call Is A Mystery To Be Solved

Telephone switchboard

 

 

 

I had been away for the weekend and returned late. There was a phone message. I would do nothing about it at that hour but . . . I listened to it anyway. It was a garble of words just out of reach, with sounds as if through water. The backdrop to a horror movie or an opaque dream. It kept on and on and I hung up before the end.

 

Next day I had many things to do, so I did not listen to the message until late afternoon. My interpretation was no different. It consisted of sounds heard behind a door in a dream. I probably would have just ignored and deleted, but it went on and on. The phone number of the caller meant nothing to me (other than it was localized to the two immediate provinces). So, from curiosity and a touch of concern, I phoned back.

A woman answered. She was as confused as I would be, if I was hearing the message I  now delivered. She even said that she did not understand. I repeated my predicament. Then she checked the phone number I was calling from.

“That number is from Chelsea, a friend of my daughter,” said she.

Although this added to the confusion, it also started to make some connections. I had been getting phone calls for “Chelsea”, on and off, for months.

“But Chelsea has moved.”  The woman also started to make a connection. “But I still have her on my speed dial. You must now have her number. I must have hit it somehow when it was in my pocket or my purse. I’ll erase it.”

Two mysteries solved.

I listened to the message a bit longer before I deleted it. There was a portion where I could make out the CBC National News on television. Probably from a pocket but, it still sounded as if it was more from a fish tank.

DE

 

(image)

http://directorytelephone.info/telephone_switchboard.html

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