It was 6.30 when the phone rang and dinner had just been served.

‘Which telephone company do you represent?’ I asked.

‘How did you know?’

‘Just a wild guess.’

‘Is that you Mr Barry?’ was the follow-up question.

‘That’s my first name,’ I told her, not bothering to let her know the subtle differences between first names, Christian names, maiden names and surnames. We then had what could best be described as a conversation.

It was a one-sided chat because I said ‘excuse me’ about 25 times and finally ran out of patience. I decided to bring the conversation to an end. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m being rude but I haven’t understood a word you’ve said,’ I told her in my usual courteous manner. By now we had spent 20 minutes with neither of us any the wiser. Foolishly I suggested she ring on Monday hoping that she would come to the same conclusion as I had: that we would never understand each other. She rang on Tuesday and we enjoyed a replay.

She will ring again, of that I have no doubt, even when I revert to my ‘lingua franca’. I concluded the conversation by asking her where she was from. ‘The Philippines,’ was the not unexpected reply. The other possibilities were India, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong and other parts of the Asian Archipelago. It is a rare day when I do not receive a phone call from south-east Asia  at dinner time. While I was writing this column, I had four similar phone calls. Doing the lolly didn’t deter them. They learnt a few words they hadn’t been taught in English class.

Interestingly they were all young women and were calling from a call centre outside Australia. Less interestingly was the fact that when I fell for their line of bullshit, I lost money, got a worse service and was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Eventually I reached the point where the only profitable response was to slam the phone down and besmirch Australia’s good name. Yet again.

The next time I receive a mystery call I’ll tell her my name is Craig Thomson. On second thoughts, maybe I shouldn’t.

For a long time I thought I was just unlucky, then I discovered that everyone I knew was enjoying the same experiences. Now what surprises is that every house has a phone or two. We have five. Millions of calls must be made every day throughout Australia enabling anyone with a phone to get rid of their frustrations using foul language to frighten the natives.

I have no objection to aliens ringing around trying to make a quid. I have no objection to them migrating to Australia or getting special visas to work part-time in Australia to lift their standard of living. What I do object to is foreign call centres using Australia to earn their living to which they contribute nothing, particularly when we are told we have hundreds of thousands of Australians young, old and disabled who are unemployed. They don’t pay rent, purchase food or other goods and they certainly don’t pay any income tax.

How does Australia benefit from foreign call centres using Australia as a source of income totalling billions? And for no net-benefit to Australia. How do they contribute to the Australian economy? Do they contribute at all? They will be paid in a cheap Asian currency and spend it in their country of origin while Australians look for work.

How does Australia benefit? Not in cheaper or more efficient phone calls; not in employment; not in a tax contribution. Australia is being played for a sucker. And we receive 9/10ths of sweet F.A. to provide billions to massive foreign telephone companies, who contribute nothing to Australia’s GDP. This highway robbery has continued for years and has been growing exponentially as our population increases. Governments of different political persuasions have been aware of what was happening and did nothing about it. I wouldn’t mind so much if we got a good phone service, but we don’t. It gets worse.

It wouldn’t be so bad if when you got through to the number you were calling, you could actually speak to a human being but after you press a couple of hundred buttons and get cut off a couple of times you have to start again. You know what I’m talking about. And we are all supposed to be delighted with the speed and efficiency of the modern telecommunications system.

It’s so good that when I summon up the courage to phone my bank, insurance company, credit card provider or any government department I get a dose of the ‘Joe Blakes’ knowing what’s in store for me. And woe betide anyone who has spent 20 minutes trying to get through to the object of their desire and then gets cut off. It happens far too often. And those who suffer most are the halt, the blind, the lame and now the aged. They don’t understand the system. Some day in the not too distant future the government of the day will wake up to the fact that the political party who promises to reform the whole stinking rotten telecommunications system will reap the rewards at the ballot box.

I don’t want any of the fancy geegaws that the ‘sophisticated’ telephone companies are offering. What I, and all those I know, want is a phone that will get through to the person I want to call, receive calls, leave messages and undertake simple tasks. I don’t want any of the other crap.

The political party who realises this will get great rewards at the ballot box. The media might be surprised at the response they will get as well.

Apparently it hasn’t occurred to telephone companies that they’ll get more business if they employ those with Australian accents. And a lot of Australians will get work who are presently on the dole.