I met a lady a couple of years ago through an online dating service and thought she might be worth investing in some, male enhancement drugs from one of the online Canadian pharmacies. Just in case I needed them. I had no suspicions that I would, but it’s like loading a gun. The best time to do it is before the gunfight erupts, not after. After receiving my first order, I was quite proud of myself, until I found out that I just sold my soul to the devil. Or, more specifically, Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna.
Most online Canadian pharmacies are actually located somewhere in the East—not near the changing leaves of Vermont or New Hampshire, but closer to the shifting sands of Bangalore, India. When you speak to a friendly sales rep named Mike or Richard, you’re really talking to Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna who are eager to help you with your order. And your next. And your next.
Once you place your first order from an online pharmacy (Canadian or otherwise), you’ll find yourself permanently married to them and there’s no way to get a divorce. You’ll never have to worry about forgetting to order a refill—Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna will be right there to remind you—at 2:00 in the morning, on holiday weekends, when you’re just about to sit down to Easter dinner or when you’re lying in Intensive Care. Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna will be there for you. And, they’ll never take no for an answer. Despite asking Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna to please stop calling and verbalizing threats equating to your middle finger, the calls never stop.
Online pharmacies use all of the usual tricks of the trade like predictive autodialing, with the added tenacity of a barracuda. Once they get their teeth into you, it’s easier just to cut off your arm, than it is to find a permanent solution. The Federal Communications Commission will suggest such effective measures as asking to be placed on a “do not call” list. You can also register all of your telephone numbers under the do not call registry, which makes it a fineable offense if they continue to bother you. None of that matters to Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna. They’re into you for the long haul.
So, after asking Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna nicely to please stop calling me, I decided to take the gloves off and start 
playing dirty.
The first thing I tried was patiently listening to their entire sales pitch. When they were finished, I asked them what were they wearing, were they single and did they have a girlfriend? Informing them that I had just come out of the closet, I asked Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna if they’d like to fly over here and snuggle up with me. Who knows? Maybe we could get married and they could give all of this up.
When I was lucky enough to get a call from someone else, I immediately lapsed into a Lithuanian dialect of Tagalog. That’s had some of the best success at shutting down those pesky, unwanted telephone calls. If that failed, I’d wait again until they finished their entire script covering this week’s specials, then ask them what color underwear they were wearing. Click.
As things escalated, I started to fill them in on all of the ways I planned to exterminate their first born male child. That worked for a while until I started getting calls from Aachman, Chaaruchandra, Egaiarasu, Gajananvihari, Ibraheem, Kailashchandra, Nabhanyu, Padmanabha, Radhana, Taanusiya, Vaijayantimala, Yaamoli and Phil.
A week later, Pachaimuthu called just to let me know that the Online Pharmacy was featuring a special on Dilantin and Topamz. I told him that while I wasn’t experiencing any grade II convulsions at the time, I’d sure appreciate it if he could help me out with some Fentanyl, Vicodin, Percocet or Oxycontin. Click.
Another very effective way to deal with online pharmacies is to use some of your old college tricks. The next time Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna call, try saying, “Oh, I’m so glad you called back. There’s been a huge mistake on the order I just placed. Instead of two medium mushroom pizzas, I’d like an extra-large meat-lover’s with a cheese filled crust. Can you do that for me?”
Many telemarketers are willing to work with you and will do whatever it takes to fill an order. Since they work for about $2.74 an hour plus commission, they’ll hold on while you ask them to wait: “Just hang on for a moment while I go get my credit card.” Then, grab your gym bag and drive to your racquetball game. They’ll still be on hold with you when you get back. Another great way to take advantage of them is by ignoring them. Just tell them, “Hold on for a moment while I get my last invoice.” Then lay the phone down on your coffee table while you watch television for a few hours. The goal is to see how long you can keep Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna hanging on the phone, wasting their “valuable” time.
If you’re not feeling particularly creative, there are some simple tricks you can use that are taught in the defensive portion of all telemarketing training. First, tell them that you’re kind of busy at the moment, but please call me later at my mother’s house. Then give them the number to your police department. If that doesn’t work, ask them to please speak up—no matter how loudly they’re speaking. The goal is to have them yelling into their headset. Or, you can ask them to repeat EVERYTHING they say. “What was that?” “Can you repeat that?” “I’m sorry, my hearing aid just died. Will you say that again?” Making telemarketers repeat everything twice will cut their performance by half and get them in trouble with their supervisors, so they’ll probably stop calling you.
Like all other low-paying jobs, telemarketers are only human and in the business to make ends meet, so give them a break. The next time that Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna calls and asks you how you are, be honest. Tell them about everything that’s ailing you this morning. Start at the top and work your way down to your feet. “Well, I’m doing pretty good except for the alcoholic hepatitis, anthrax, bacterial meningitis, ruptured spleen, chronic fatigue syndrome, cretinism, diabetes, ebola, genital herpes, huntington’s disease, interstitial cystitis, jaundice, kwashiorkor, lead poisoning, malaria, Marburg fever, non-gonococcal urethritis, osteoporosis, polio, Rift Valley fever, SARS, shingles, typhoid, uremia, Von Hippel-Lindau disease and yellow fever. But, thank God the warts have gone away!”
After carrying on with Maandhata, Sandeep or Radhakrishna for more than a year, they finally gave up calling me after I joined the Peace Corp. I haven’t heard from them since. But, I’m thinking about calling them again. I’m almost out of Viagra.
