The Top Ring of Deadbeat Hell

One of the biggest concerns I had when we decided to "strategically downsize" was that the creditors would start calling. I didn't want them to talk with my children.

It is fair to say I had a right to be concerned. The calls come. Sometimes--like this past Friday--six times in one day. I have had to tell these folks, whose first language is obviously not American English, not to call me before 8 a.m. I have repeatedly told them not to call my cell phone (which is my work phone). And every time they call, I explain I have already spoken to asset managers. That seems to confuse them, as one man confessed, he had never heard of an "asset manager" and was pretty sure his company didn't have anyone in that position.

Generally the calls go like this,

Them: "Is this Marty Sunshine?"
Me: "No."
Them: "Is this Mrs. Marty Sunshine?"
Me: "Can I help you?
Them: "I am Some Random Person from the mortgage company. Would you please verify your social security number?"

At which point, I seem to throw them off their script. My former answer was, "No. I will not." The person on the other end would then explain that they can't continue the call until I give them my social security number. "That's fine. You called me. If you can't continue the call, I have other things to do anyway. Please have an asset manager call me," I will say, and they get confused all over again.

Friday I tried a new strategy. When asked what my social security number is, I said, "Why don't you give me your social security number instead?" Apparently the woman on the other end of the call found that utterly unacceptable. When I pointed out the irony, she wasn't impressed and hung up me.

Friday afternoon, after my sixth call, I e-mailed two asset managers (of the three we are dealing with), asking them to call off their goons. Loosing homes is humiliating enough. I don't wish to be reminded I am a deadbeat every day, six times a day.