I have a young man living with me named Siddhartha Mukherjee. I have great fun when telemarketers call and struggle through "Is Swa harda mook her jee or Swapni k=mack or whatever available?" I wait patiently until they are all done. Then respond, "Sorry. He's not home." Great fun when the semi-literate callers selling subscriptions to the NY Post try to get him. They usually stop halfway through, hoping I will intervene. But it would be rude to interrupt.