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Well, well, sometimes you don't have to do it the hard way.
On Monday, I was driving back through Branford, Guilford, etc along US 1, and saw that some dipstick house-painter in East Haven had decided it would be a good idea to promote his business by nailing signs up on phone poles (and sticking some in the ground).
I yanked a few, but it was pretty warm and the sport wore off quickly. So I punched *67, made a call, got the answering machine, and delivered my spiel:
"This is Enforcement Officer Jim Mickelson (whom the same doesn't actually exist) of the Connecticut Department of Environmental Regulation (of which there isn't one), and I am calling to advise you that your signs along Route 1 are illegal under Section 23-65 of the Connecticut State Statutes (this part is true).
"This statute provides for a fifty-dollar fine per sign (also true). You have twenty-four hours to remove all of your signs. If there are any of your signs remaining on utility poles or in the ground within the right-of-way after three PM tomorrow, you will be issued a summons and fined fifty dollars for each remaining sign. Thank you."
Went back that way on Wednesday, and guess what? No signs.
Folks, here's the lesson: If you're dealing with an unsophisticated local, maybe (just a suggestion) your best bet is a liberal application of nonspecific but clearly intimidating BS.
I know that others have had some success in calling spammers and getting them to understand the error of their ways through polite discourse, but that's never worked for me. Whenever I try to talk to these bozos, they tell me to shut up and mind my own business.
You're all welcome, of course, to borrow this technique and script if you think it will help.
That's about all for now; Mr Cuervo and Mr Daniel have been out there in the kitchen cabinet, calling "pick me!," "no, pick me!" for quite a while. I ignored them as long as I could, but now they're piping up in unison, "pick both of us!"
I gotta go.
Redstone
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