Connection

So with all the moving, I'd called Comcast last week to see about transferring my cable and internet to the new place. "No problem," I was told, "since there's already service at that location we can just transfer service without interruption."

Sweet, I thought. Then Friday evening I turned on the tv--nothing.

I called Comcast and was told by an insufferably snippy woman, "Well, the previous tenant cancelled their service, so it's been disconnected. We'll have to send someone out to reconnect it."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Every time someone moves you send someone out to disconnect their service, even if you know you'll just be sending someone else out to reconnect it? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"The soonest we can have someone there is Tuesday afternoon," she snapped.

"That's riiiiight," I chortled, "I remember this--you can't make an appointment, can you? I have to stay here all day waiting for the cable guy, don't I? Oh, that's precious."

"No, you do not have to wait all day," the huffy customer "service" rep snarled.

"Ooooh, did you all cut down the time necessary? Do I only have to set aside five hours now instead of eight?"

"No," she said, as if it were ridiculous, "You do not have to wait five hours."

"Really??" I said with astonishment.

"It's only a four hour window," she continued.

I laughed and laughed. "Oooh, great! Only four hours!"

She got snippier. "Ma'am, I understand you're upset, but that's no reason to be sarcastic."

"Actually," I said, "If I weren't being sarcastic I'd probably be yelling at you. I think you probably prefer it this way."

So I took this afternoon off and waited at home for the cable guy. Waited, waited, waited. Noon to four was my "appointment window." At 4:15 I called Comcast. The cable technician had been delayed at his previous appointment; he should arrive by 5:15.

Wow, sweet. Only an hour and fifteen minutes past the window I'd been told to set aside. Why was I even surprised?

Then the cable guy showed up, at 5:15 as promised. He gave me a hooded smirk and said, "Yeah, wow, it's getting pretty dark, huh? You wanna reschedule for another day? It's a pretty complicated job since there wasn't service here before."

Annoyed at the idea of wasting yet another afternoon sitting at home, I informed him that there was in fact service at this location until last Thursday when Comcast turned it off. "I just need it turned back on," I explained again.

"Oh, well..." he stared at his papers. "Well, I gotta tell you, I just came from another job down the street that I had to reschedule, because I left my tools at the jobsite before that one. So I'll have to go, either way...I mean, I can get my tools and come back...should be about 45 minutes."

"See you then!" I smiled.

He came back at 6:00. The cables were connected by 6:15, so I guess it wasn't such a complicated job after all.

I got a $20 credit toward my bill since he wasn't there during the allotted window. Of course, they charged me a $10 fee each for turning on the cable and the internet, so it's really a wash. Stupid gits. I'm not as irritated with the guy himself (he seemed nice enough when he returned, and he petted Chloe quite fondly) as with the ridiculous monopoly Comcast enjoys that allows them to jerk their customers around like this. I mean, really. A six-hour period where I'm just supposed to sit home and wait for the cable guy to appear and grace me with his cheerful smile? Argh.

Anyway, I've been reconnected to the outside world, and the tubes of the internets should be humming along soon--they aren't yet, because after all that, our cable modem is in Mr. Thel's car right now. So I came up to the bookstore to post this riveting account of my irritation with Comcast, because the flame of my devotion to Holidailies cannot be quenched by such feeble obstacles. Nay, though all the forces of Comcast are arrayed against me, I will post daily!