Yesterday I received a cold-call from one of those phone companies who wanted me to switch to them, and I was delighted.

Now don’t get me wrong. I hate those cold-calls. The phone rings and I think to myself “Ah! Someone has remembered I exist, and wants a chat”. But then they whinge on about their special offers and why I would be much better off changing to their service. [Yes, Smart. I got lots from you in the past. Ha ha!!].

What I do like about these calls is that they have phoned me, and not the other way around. Therefore they can’t complain if I’m rude. And boy can I be rude! I use these cold callers to vent all my frustrations. I curse and swear at them and I feel much better after. I don’t know how they feel, and I don’t care.

I have spent a lifetime accumulating a very extensive list of expletives, vulgarities and swear words that would make a docker blush. I can be quite nasty.

But the call yesterday was a bitter disappointment.

“‘Allo. May I speak to ze bill payer pliz?”

Great! A cold caller! I promptly launched into my usual rant about cold-callers and how **** annoying they are, and how they have no **** business ringing me and how they are a shower of **** and **** and even ****, and how they can ram their **** service up their collective ****.

She listened politely. When I wound down after about a minute, she paused [presumably to see if there was any more coming].

“Vould you be interessed in our spezzial ovvers?”

I realised to my horror that she hadn’t understood a word I’d said. It was all in vain. She was foreign.

So this is an open appeal to all telecommunications companies. Could you please, please employ English speaking Irish people.

I hate to see my good education go to waste.