It's obvious why guilt and fear would please collectors; those are emotions that may get you to send them money. Getting you angry might seem pointless, or pure sadism on their part, but not so: angry people far too often react by saying "I'll show them!", race to the checkbook, and fire off a "paid in full" check with a nasty letter. Wrong move! Cursing the collector and hanging up often leads to: collector wins.

Being cheerful, on the other hand, drives them crazy – there's nothing to latch onto. It's like trying to sink their fingernails into Teflon. After hearing a dozen collectors come unglued, you actually do become a lot more cheerful, and are ready to take the next step: brazenly lie to collectors.

In countless interviews, everyone who has cheerfully lied to a debt collector also told me how delighted they were to have shamelessly lied. And I mean everyone, including grandparents who grew up on the "honesty is the best policy" theory. That first brazen lie seems to be a liberating moment in the journey from fear and indignity back to freedom and self-respect.

Of course you need a starting point. These are some conversations I've had or in 20-plus years of hearing from debt collectors who were calling long-gone roommates, about distant relatives' debts, other people with the same name, startup businesses that were starved for cash and behind on their bills, real estate developers staggering on the edge of bankruptcy, and of course sometimes calling for me.

Geography and weather are always good subjects to start with. After all, it's only good manners to inquire where the caller is located and how the weather is.

Collector: "I'm Bob Bozo calling from ABC Collections regarding your debt to Very Big Bank."

You: "Oh, where are you calling from?" (Good information, since a collector on the other side of the country is unlikely to file a lawsuit against you.)

Collector: "Miami, Florida."

You: "Oh, how's the weather there? Must be beautiful like always. It's been miserable here, we keep bouncing from heat waves to floods. Seems like there's never a break, if it isn't one it's the other. Boy, what I'd give for a clear blue day. Why, I don't think we've had blue sky since...."

Of course sometimes they jump in and take the initiative, as with:

"What is your source of income?"

"Well ... of course I buy a Lotto ticket every day. Two, in fact. Won $100 just last week too ... but I'm sorry to say it already went to groceries. But I'm sure I'm going to be winning a jackpot soon. You see, I have this system based on multiplying my birthday times ... uh ... well, I don't wanna tell you the whole system, I'm sure you'll understand that. But I'm gonna give you a tip, it all starts with your birthday. Just figure out the formula and bet your birthday, you can't go wrong there...."

If you want to end the conversation immediately, add on "... hey, hang on a sec, lemme grab another beer...." Collecting from a guy reaching for his second (sixth?) beer is impossible.

I still take joy from this conversation, one of the last collection calls I ever answered:

"Are you currently employed?"

"Not at the moment, I'm afraid."

"Can't you get a job? You seem quite intelligent."

"Thank you, my mother thought so."

I don't really know why, in these days of Caller ID, people take calls from debt collectors at all. Last time I was hearing from them regularly was when the dot-com bubble burst, and Caller ID service was sketchier, but answering machines worked fine – so why did I talk to a single debt collector?

The closest I have to an answer is that it's a phase most of us seem to go through, perhaps because we're trying to be reasonable, or polite, or "work with them," or some last-century notion of how things ought to be.

There are some benefits to taking calls for awhile, though. It gradually sinks into your subconscious that most debt collectors are barking dogs; if they don't file a lawsuit, and most don't, there isn't much they can do to you. And there's an unexpected bonus at the tail end of the ordeal; after 2,000 harassment calls, including the ones you let go to voicemail, any lingering guilt about walking away from the debt completely disappears.

However, speaking to debt collectors does put you in the danger zone until you've developed the knack of being cheerful and dumb (or have gotten past the urge to pick up the phone).

So while you are still in the danger zone, here is self-defense in a nutshell: never promise to pay ("promising" kicks in new legal angles), or admit you owe a debt ("I can't say, I'd have to check my files."), or tell them you're employed ("I'm unemployed."), or even begin to discuss your income, assets, or finances in any way. Those roads go nowhere good for you.

The only relevant information in dealing with a collector is that you are:

"Broke and unemployed ... but might be able to borrow some money" – if and only if you're planning to negotiate a short payoff. Otherwise – if you're not expecting to pay them anything – all they need to know is that you're "broke and unemployed."

I hope every reader still talking to debt collectors will try this approach, and I wish you good cheer in the coming weeks.

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Nicholas Carroll is the author of Walk Away From Debt for a Better Future.