- Joined
- Mar 11, 2013
- Messages
- 13,166
- Points
- 113
https://resistancerepublicaine.com/...nique-nique-ta-mere-allah-va-soccuper-de-toi/
My interlocutor is always a man with a Maghreb accent. But not the same one every time, it seems, because he introduces himself with different first names (Mohamed, Rachid, etc.). At least that’s what he tells me.
The first time, although surprised that he has my landline number (normally only my relatives have my landline number because I cut off the mobile phone at night but in case of emergency, they can reach me as well), I agreed to answer his questions with kindness, my correspondent presenting himself as a representative of EDF [the state electric company]: surface area of the accommodation, number of sections of the roof, even indications as to the amount of my income.
However, I got tired of it because I have the same call every day, sometimes several times a day. I have reported every time that I have been contacted and answered questions, that I was not interested because my house is not sunny enough to be worth it.
In addition, by digging into the issue, I discover that EDF warns about the fact that it does not carry out any canvassing of this kind and that individuals with well-honed discourse pass themselves off as EDF agents by usurping their quality.
Yesterday, exasperated, I start by asking my interlocutor what his real identity is and what he wants from me. Aren’t these calls just a pretext to find out if I’m home after all?
And to tell him firmly that I don’t want him to call me anymore, that I will call the police …
Especially as the same people (or the same person?) also call me on my mobile, so they have all my numbers.
“Come on, come on, sir, please be courteous,” the direct salesman-stalker insists, who, it must be admitted, has been quite polite up to now.
My blood only swirled around and to be sure of getting rid of him for good, I had to let myself go and tell him bluntly: ““I’m fed up with the cold-calling, I don’t want you to call me anymore, do you understand, a***ole?”
It is true that the “a***ole” was too much, but knowing that he was not an EDF agent in reality, I was starting to get angry …
Then, the mask fell and a recitation followed in Arabic of which I did not understand anything, on the other hand I understood that he was insulting me several times with the now customary formulas “F**k your mother” and “F**k you dirty queer,” marked with the seal of the opprobrium that Islamic culture throws on homosexuality and the Eastern representation according to which the Western man is an effeminate who lacks virility because he is too respectful of women.
Above all, this individual’s visceral hatred for me, Frenchman, erupted when he added: “Allah will take care of you.”
Despite the violence of these words, I was absolutely not surprised. I suspected that behind this honeyed tone, there was the well-concealed hatred of the “kuffar” who is cajoled as much as you need him and to whom death is promised as soon as he rebels.
My interlocutor is always a man with a Maghreb accent. But not the same one every time, it seems, because he introduces himself with different first names (Mohamed, Rachid, etc.). At least that’s what he tells me.
The first time, although surprised that he has my landline number (normally only my relatives have my landline number because I cut off the mobile phone at night but in case of emergency, they can reach me as well), I agreed to answer his questions with kindness, my correspondent presenting himself as a representative of EDF [the state electric company]: surface area of the accommodation, number of sections of the roof, even indications as to the amount of my income.
However, I got tired of it because I have the same call every day, sometimes several times a day. I have reported every time that I have been contacted and answered questions, that I was not interested because my house is not sunny enough to be worth it.
In addition, by digging into the issue, I discover that EDF warns about the fact that it does not carry out any canvassing of this kind and that individuals with well-honed discourse pass themselves off as EDF agents by usurping their quality.
Yesterday, exasperated, I start by asking my interlocutor what his real identity is and what he wants from me. Aren’t these calls just a pretext to find out if I’m home after all?
And to tell him firmly that I don’t want him to call me anymore, that I will call the police …
Especially as the same people (or the same person?) also call me on my mobile, so they have all my numbers.
“Come on, come on, sir, please be courteous,” the direct salesman-stalker insists, who, it must be admitted, has been quite polite up to now.
My blood only swirled around and to be sure of getting rid of him for good, I had to let myself go and tell him bluntly: ““I’m fed up with the cold-calling, I don’t want you to call me anymore, do you understand, a***ole?”
It is true that the “a***ole” was too much, but knowing that he was not an EDF agent in reality, I was starting to get angry …
Then, the mask fell and a recitation followed in Arabic of which I did not understand anything, on the other hand I understood that he was insulting me several times with the now customary formulas “F**k your mother” and “F**k you dirty queer,” marked with the seal of the opprobrium that Islamic culture throws on homosexuality and the Eastern representation according to which the Western man is an effeminate who lacks virility because he is too respectful of women.
Above all, this individual’s visceral hatred for me, Frenchman, erupted when he added: “Allah will take care of you.”
Despite the violence of these words, I was absolutely not surprised. I suspected that behind this honeyed tone, there was the well-concealed hatred of the “kuffar” who is cajoled as much as you need him and to whom death is promised as soon as he rebels.