Being told to stop speaking halfway through a nuisance call can be a traumatic experience.
A female voice is conducting a survey into my home heating practices and will I speak to her?
A kind stranger asking how you keep your corporeal being warm and functioning is not something an ordinary male would pass up, generally, but I am busy.
I am reading letter from a man I do not know who says I am lucky enough to belong to a huge tribe of people scattered throughout the known world; I am now the sole inheritor of a fortune left swinging when the former owner fell from a tree while demonstrating acrobatics to a new girlfriend. This flying fool had my own surname and I hope his madness is not genetic.
If I will simply supply my bank details, my correspondent will let me in on the deal, tout de suite.
So I pass up the heating woman's suggestion that we get it together on my heating practices. She sounds strangely happy.
Some time later, a male voice telephones to talk heating. I have passed on the swinging deal, for now, and agree to speak.
He starts with the usual questions on which planet I reside on his way to the hard sell at the end, but, when I mention his female colleague and plead for no more calls from them in the future the tone changes.
He says he has enough people in my area, he is full up. He is going to stop asking me questions.
Then he hangs up.
Unlike the man in the tree who should have taken the same course of action.
I wonder what I said to cause such a reaction. Maybe I should have told him I was going to be rich.