My home line rang first. It was Julie from Advanced Vacations, or Jamie from Extravagant Vacations, or something like that. A recorded voice trying to sell me something I wasn't in the market for.

I have a real problem with recorded cold calling because there is no acceptable opt-out capability. At least with a live person, I can try to cut them off and request that I be removed from their lists. But Jessie from Extreme Vacations would presumably only share that information after I'd listened to her digitized pitch. (To be fair, I do also find the recorded messages consumers can play at telemarketers spouting a boilerplate opt-out message to be a bit un-sporting, but I understand the appeal for some.)

So, as I was hanging up on Jane (total time elapsed: about 5 seconds), my work line started ringing. And, wouldn't you know it, it's the same woman, with the same message! And the same lack of opt-out, never mind the same lack of motivation on my part to listen to the offer.

My first response was to be amazed at just how fast those dialers must operate and how much volume they must push at once—my two lines are on the same exchange, but pretty much on the opposite ends of the 10,000 number span, and very little time had passed. Unless, of course, it works randomly and not sequentially and they just happened to want to pick on me.

I appreciate that the telephone is a legitimate prospecting channel, and within certain rules of engagement, I don't mind being prospected in that manner. And automation is wonderful for routine notifications as part of an existing relationship. (Do I need the pharmacy tech to tell me a prescription is ready or has been delayed? Not especially, the recording does just fine.) But there's just so much that doesn't work about outbound cold calling that I'm surprised the practice survives.

In a world so brimming with interactive choices to deal with customers, it is more deadly linear than even a pamphlet—at least with a pamphlet, I can skip to the end to find out what this holiday is and what it's going to cost me, or flip it over to find out who to contact about opting out. The format persists, of course, for the same reason I keep getting credit card convenience checks--the cost of making the pitch is so low, it's hard not to want to make it.

Even though do-not-call regulations are inevitably going to be softened in the name of commerce, I find it difficult to believe that this sort of pitch is going to survive unregulated. No matter—or perhaps, thanks to—how many times they can ring the phones on my desk in 10 seconds or less.

None of the companies mentioned in this article have been clients of CRMuse LLC or Jason Compton for at least the past six months. Actually, I don't remember the name of the travel agency, despite the fact that they called me twice. More fool they!