So began the caller in what has become one of the more customary and rote statements made by employees at a variety of businesses today.  Sadly for the lady who called me the other day and began her spiel by telling me that nugget of info, I was in rare form.  I was in pain and by no means in a good mood.  For those of you who may be new here, I had a hemorrhoidectomy surgery on the 15th.  Don’t worry, I’ll skip all the gross details about the aftereffects and the pain involved.  Suffice it to say that I felt De Sade had interroragated me with the use of a steel brillo pad and metal clamps.  The rest can be left to the imagination.

Anyway, the phone rang, I picked it up, and the caller announced herself.  I don’t remember now what company she was from, or what deal or product she was offering me, but she announced to me the words from the title of this post in a very capable businesslike tone.

The instant she was done, before she could get to describing anything else or offering me anything, I interjected with

“I object.”

“I’m sorry, you said….”

“I said, I object.  To you and the mystery person somewhere else in your building who just hit the record button.  I OBJECT.  STOP THE RECORDING NOW!”

“Uh, sir, we….”

“No, don’t give me any excuses.  When the government is interviewing you, whether it’s by an investigator or a personnel manager or what, they have to inform you of their wish to record the proceedings and they have to get your permission.  They can’t record you without your permission.  Why didn’t you offer me that choice first?”

“Sir, this is standard procedure, I have to tell you…”

“No, to hell with standard procedure.  You and all the other good little Nazi troopers can do whatever you want, and blame it on the fact you’re just following orders, but I don’t give a damn.  Since you and your overlords can’t be bothered to show me a simple courtesy by asking my permission before you begin recording me, I’m not going to give you another second of my time.  Next time you call me, you make sure that I’m not going to be recorded, for whatever the hell reason, unless I give my consent first.  Till then, you and yours can go to hell.

“Sir, please, just….”

“Oh, and uh, Merry Christmas.”

“Sir…”

CLICK

Alright, a bit juvenile on my part, I admit, but I was in pain and not so good of a mood when the phone rang.  I felt better after I hung up, though.

Advertisement