I came up dry today for the weekly post. Usually a banner floats by on the brain screen with something I want to chew on. Today the brain blank page remained blank. “Ah,” I thought, “I’ll just see what happens when I pull up the virtual blank page. . .” and the cable connection was down. Spooky. Very spooky.
I, too, have had the delicious experience of being on hold for hours, swearing at the recording loop, pressing “O” with bloody fingers and performing the usual assortment of dervish behaviors common to trying to reconnect to what has become a lifeline. A few years ago, after a particularly pernicious and prolonged problem, the technician said, “Ma’am, trust me. We want this fixed as much as you do.”
I wonder if they have my phone number selected out on some cable version of Homeland Security because when I called this morning, I actually got a real live person straight away. (Straight away was technically speaking after number-choosing the language of my choice and the type of problem I was having~all quite reasonable requests.) Jason reported that there were maintenance problems in Massachusetts and New Hampshire and that they were working on it. He took my name and said I could call back the billing department and request credit for the time I was off line and that he was so sorry I was inconvenienced.
Uh, who are you and what have you done with the cable company?
Wow. I’m gobberflabsted.