I see North Carolina’s Attorney General is lowering the boom on robocalls, and he has my blessing – even if it hits me in the pocketbook.

Please don’t think less of me, but I’ve done voice overs for a few robocalls in my day. For money.

I know, I can’t stand them either. You’re sitting there trying to enjoy your dinner before it gets cold, the phone rings, and you think it might be news about Aunt Mildred’s knee surgery so you answer it. Before you know it you’re sucked into another one.

I immediately hang up on them these days. I don’t have the slightest curiosity what the voice on the other end is selling. I don’t buy anything over the phone or at the front door. My house, my rules.

Political robocalls are the most fun to discard. I’m glad no one can hear what I’m saying as I hang up. Conservatives, liberals, independents – I’ve hung up on them all. I show no bias whatsoever. You’re gone.

But yes, to my deep shame, I sat down behind a microphone more than once to earn a few shillings voicing them. And yes, I do feel a bit guilty knowing someone will have their dinner interrupted by me.

In fact, if they make the rounds locally someone will probably say “Oh, it’s just another damn robocall, only that guy sounded just like Kent Bernhardt. Naaah, can’t be. Kent would never interrupt my dinner.”

In the old days, a real person would interrupt your dinner. They’d be sitting there at a busy switchboard with a stack full of cards guiding them through your every response.

“You’re not interested, Mr. Bernhardt?” (Go to card 5) “Well, what if I told you I could give you the same deal for less than half the money I was going to fleece you out of at the beginning of this call?”

“Still not interested, Mr. Bernhardt?” (Go to card 7) “What If I told you we have your grandmother tied to a pole in our basement? Would you be interested then?”

They had a response for everything back then, a way to keep you on the line until your supper was cold and they’d worn you down. A guy once kept me on the line until he reached the point where he wanted my credit card information. I refused to give it to him over the phone and the smile in his voice disappeared.

“You have to give it to me”, he barked. “It’s the only way I can give you your free Myrtle Beach vacation!”

If it’s free, why do you need my credit card information, I wondered. Besides, I never give out credit card information over the phone.

So if I call your home some evening and my recorded voice is hawking something, feel free to give me the heave-ho. I won’t mind a bit. In fact, I won’t feel a thing.

I already have the money I earned recording it, so I won’t need yours.