I usually don’t answer the phone when I get a number that isn’t in my contacts list. I hate talking on the phone and it’s usually an unwanted marketing call or another robocall from St Paul Public Schools reminding me to update my kids’ records online or telling me that “your child’s lunch account is low or negative. Please add funds…” I’ve learned to recognize the phone number for the weekly robocall from Anders’s school telling us all about the events of the week. I also recognize the number when the pharmacy is calling to remind me that “your prescription is ready!” I used to remember the Forest Lake Schools robocall number too. Still, if I don’t know the number, you’re going to have to leave a message or get into my contact list before I answer. Usually.

Lately, though, I’ve been waiting for a call from a specialist to whom my doctor referred me. My carpal tunnel has been really bad to the point that I can’t bike or play banjo or do much that makes my wrist bend in certain ways. My fingers tingle randomly during the day. So I have to go in for a nerve test and a surgeon consult, which means I need to answer the phone when I get a call I don’t recognize.

A couple days ago, the Pioneer Press, the local Saint Paul newspaper, called me and the woman said “I am just calling to say thank you for your subscription for …” and I stopped her: I didn’t subscribe to anything. I don’t want the newspaper. No, I don’t look at the ads. She “apologized” and said she’d cancel it. The next day I got another call from the Press asking me to subscribe to the Thursday and Sunday papers because “then you get the ads.” I again said I wasn’t interested and asked them to take me off the list. The person said “can I ask why you aren’t interested in getting the newspaper?” I had a lot of things to say at that point, but how dare they take up more of my time on this when I have said no thanks?

Anyway, today I got not just one, but TWO phone calls from the Pioneer Press. I was out with my kids both times. The first time they asked me to subscribe and I was very annoyed and firmly told the man to take me off of their list. Then, as I was getting gas, they called again. “Thank you for your subscription” THEY WANTED TO DISCUSS PAYMENT. At this point, I lost it for a second: I never subscribed to the paper, I never wanted the paper, I don’t want the paper, and at this point, I am pissed. Then I pulled myself together and said “I’m sorry – I know this isn’t your personal fault and you are just doing your job. I need you to make sure this company never calls me again, though.” She was the first person who actually sounded like she would actually take care of the problem. I suppose we’ll see tomorrow.

We got home from running errands and there was a package on our steps. Annika ran over to get it and came in with a package for Dak… and a Pioneer Press. They delivered a fucking paper.

Sorry this blog turned into a consumer rage rant. I kind of feel like an old lady complaining about those damn sales people. But SERIOUSLY. The Pioneer Press is stalking me.

Maybe I should just cave. I mean, look at what I could be missing out on*:

*this was actually from a Sacramento paper.