The subtle tremor against my sternum stirs me from slumber. Logically, the smartphone nestled in my breast pocket is the source of the disturbance. Yet, in the stillness of the night, I’m perplexed by the unexpected interruption, wondering who could be reaching out at this hour.

Groggily, I fumble for my phone, its screen a blurry mess of light and shadow. With heavy-lidded eyes, I swipe to answer the call, mumbling “Hello?” three times before a human voice briefly breaks through the static. Suddenly, the voice morphs into a robotic recording, draining away any hope of meaningful communication. Resigned, I disconnect the call and sink back into my pillow, sleep beckoning once more.

Unsolicited advertisements intrude on my personal space, flagrantly disregarding my privacy. Unlike traditional media where advertisers fund the platform, I bear the full cost of my communication device, yet receive no compensation for these unwelcome interruptions. The disparity is stark: television and radio ads are subsidized by marketing budgets, while my personal phone becomes an unpaid billboard for corporate messaging.

Frustrated by the constant barrage of unwanted calls, I long for a platform to reach millions and share a crucial message: ignore these intrusive telemarketing attempts. If consumers collectively refused to engage, these disruptive businesses would quickly disappear, allowing us all to reclaim our peace and quiet. By simply hanging up and refusing to participate, we could silence these persistent interruptions and restore tranquility to our daily lives. The one and only reason they continue to persist is that sometimes they succeed.

During the period from late October to early December, unsolicited marketing intensifies, particularly targeting seniors like myself who are Medicare-eligible. These advertisers seem to have access to demographic information, though their targeting isn’t always precise. In one instance, I received a call claiming to offer thousands of dollars from Tennessee, despite living in Mississippi. Such blatantly false claims reveal the desperation and disregard these marketers have for potential customers, using the pattern of lies in hopes of our business.

Some corporate sharks swim in boardrooms, armed with MBAs instead of machetes or guns, plotting to extract every last penny from our wallets with surgical precision and spreadsheet finesse. Their weapons? Slick marketing, fine print, and a smile that says, “Trust me, this is totally in your best interest.”

And… They use the phones we pay for to do it.