The Unnecessarily Difficult Process Of Opting Out Of Junk Mail

I've gotten six calls in the last 24 hours from the same number. Apparently, it's about an auto loan. I don't need an auto loan, I already have one; it came with the car. In fact, my loan is pretty good, I think, at less than 4%. I also get offers in the mail for auto loans, and part of my statement has a giant ad for auto loans.

Needless to say, I was not going to stand for this. Ordinarily, I really don't like phones. I feel silly talking into an inanimate object. Also, I don't like the uncertainty that phone conversations offer. In person conversations are infinitely better. Or online, because for some reason, I don't mind that so much.

Normally, I would not have called to cancel this type of nonsense because of this whole me versus the phone thing, but I noticed that the number I can call did not include talking to a human. I like that. When I received my credit card, it required me calling and talking to someone. I really did not like this. In fact, I almost didn't do it, and went without the card. It turns out, the helpful woman on the other line was a very pleasant Chinese woman whose name I did not catch because I could not decipher a damn thing she said. As a matter of fact, she repeatedly referred to me as Miss Dennis. Over and over again. Actually, Miss Dennis is about the only thing I understood in the whole conversation. Anytime I was asked a question I would just say no. Well, the first time, I actually said I couldn't understand her, and it sounded like she enrolled me in something, so after that I said no to everything.

Fun Fact: I just received another phone call from that very same number I mentioned earlier. Only this time, the country code was included.

Anyway, I phoned the number to opt out of any and all information sharing from my credit card company; I really don't require them to share anything. Not having to talk to a person was only a bonus. However, it was one of those "Say yes" type deals, which are a beast all their own. Anyway, I called them up, and upon getting to the opting out part, the voice machine seemed very chipper, although he was a bit long-winded. I guess that's what happens when you employ robots.

Upon finally finishing his spiel, the voice machine on the other end of the line asked me to say "next" to stay as-is or say "opt out" to, well, opt out. So I muttered "Opt Out". Apparently, he did not hear me, because he repeated himself. Oh, brother. The second time, however, he must have gotten the message, because his response was an unequivocal, and heart-breaking sounding Okay. Seriously, the recording sounded pretty disappointed in me, and sad to lose another person who doesn't want their info shared, but I kept on. I wasn't about to let a mere machine make me feel bad. I then opted out of everything, with much excitement!

Then, they needed to verify my answers, you know, in case I changed my mind. Maybe they were hoping the machine would get to me. "Oh, no, maybe I should let them share my info! Bollocks!" So they read the same information over again, about sharing information and that if I changed my mind to say "Next" then, nothing. No way to verify, just "hey, want to share your information, yeah?" Long pause. Very long in fact, probably ten seconds, which in phone time may as well be a decade. This continued for each of the five categories.

But I triumphed.