| | What does a nice, polite Midwestern girl do when you infuriate her? That’s right, she blogs about it. Take that, Comcast.
Last week, when our appointed day for Comcast installation arrived, I said to Noah: “There’s no way I’ll simply come home from work today and have internet access. Something will go wrong, and then I will be angry.”
Indeed. First, the Comcast guy shows up 3 hours late. Second, he informs Noah (who has patiently stayed in the apartment all day to wait for this appointment in lieu of getting any work done) that he must drill a hole through the second-floor siding to install the cable line. Hmm, he thinks. I’d better run this by the landlord, as it is her house and all, and I’d hate to ok this if she’d be upset to find a wire snaking out of her siding. Our landlord, of course, is at work, and cannot be reached via phone to give her blessing. So Noah, being considerate and also aware that I may not want to lose my deposit on the apartment, tells the Comcast guy to come back this week for an appointment to install once we’ve obtained the landlord’s permission.
That future appointment was today. And when leaving for work this morning, I again expressed my disbelief that I’d come home to internet service.
Nice to meet you- you can call me Cassandra.
I get a call at work from a very angry Noah who tells me that Comcast is in our apartment, but will not install anything until they get a signed permission letter from our landlord. I wasn’t aware that this installation was a third-grade field trip to the art museum requiring permission slips, and considering that last week’s Comcast installer made no mention of such a permission slip being required, I was stunned.
Now, the landlord had left me a post-it on my door saying “go ahead and have them install the line”. I exhort Noah to dig through the trash, through the layers of fruit peel and meat wrappers and bags of used cat litter, to procure this post-it. “Not good enough”, says the Comcast guy. “It has to have her full signature on it.”
And that, friends, is when I lost it at work and forgot my professional demeanor entirely. All my new co-workers, who have known me a whole seven days, now know me as that girl who got on the phone and started yelling obscene, filthy, irate curses down upon Comcast Corporation and threatened to go to their office and beat the living hell out of every single employee.
Thus: I am now scheduled for a THIRD appointment with Comcast for this Friday afternoon. Once again, Noah will have to sit at home all day, waiting for the installer. And once again, I very highly doubt that I will be able to come home and bask in the sweet, loving glow of the internet. However, I do not doubt that I may be spending Saturday morning attacking Comcast employees with my modem and router tied together in an ad-hoc nunchuck, and that I may then be spending Saturday afternoon in a holding cell for the insane.
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| | Posted 6/24/2008 8:08 PM - 54 views - 1 comments
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