The office has been getting a lot of cold calls lately.

We used to get quite cross about these.

There would be lots of “How did they get our number?” and “Who the hell do these people think they are?”

But we seem to have become immune. It’s part of our normal day – and, to be honest, some of them phone so often I feel like we are building a relationship. Albeit a one-sided one.

So, these days, our response to “Hello, can I speak with…” has moved on from a slightly aggressive “No” to “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry that won’t be possible. Byeeee.”

Followed by a distant smile whilst carefully replacing the handset in its cradle and returning to the task in hand, with ne’er a hair out of place.

But.

Recently I’ve started to wonder what the next phase of the conversation might be.

Maybe we’re doing them a grave disservice and they really do want to help? Perhaps we have got a PPI claim on a long-forgotten loan – or suffered a personal injury in a terrible accident no one can remember. Amnesia, per chance?

The really sad thing is, I feel like their methods might be working.

I’m terrified that one day I’ll find myself embroiled in conversation with a terribly helpful person from the Indian sub-continent, giving them my credit card details with joyful abandon.

And the urge to respond is spreading.

Rather than snorting in ridicule (the only sensible response) I’ve been hovering the mouse, desperate to click on ‘One simple secret trick to lose 4 stone of belly fat in a week’. WHAT IS THAT TIP? And if it’s so secret, why are they willing to tell me?

Of course, I don’t click. And I won’t extend my calls with the unlikely named Sammy, Maria or Stephen.

Because I know it’s all a scam. And that, just like too much wine, marketing can be bad for you.

But every now and again a piece of marketing grabs you and makes you feel good about the world. Unfortunately it’s not Dance Pony Dance, but that’s another issue.