Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
I still don't have internet at home. An unfortunate combination of factors (but mostly a series of regional outages that, apparently, have no estimated time of conclusion) keep the cable service reps from being able to schedule a third service visit. So what was a simple weak/bad signal coming into my unit is now a full-on nightmare of phone calls, copious note taking, fist-shaking, and completely justified outbursts of profanity. I can't even request a billing credit yet, because the problem hasn't been solved. Because of the outages. Because each outage blocks the customer service people from being able to access my information. To request a service call. To fix the problem. So now I just keep calling back, asking if the outage has been resolved. Mix that in with seventy-five trillion keypad options just to GET to speak with a representative, and there you have it: the recipe for both disaster and insanity.

If you've emailed me at either of my web-based email addresses, I apologize that I have not responded. I can't view those accounts at work (firewall), and obviously can't get to them at home. I would make use of wireless at my local library or Panera, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't appreciate me dragging my enormous iMac around their place of business.

I have, however, spoken at length with some unsuspecting folks at the Edmonton, Alberta call center (and one very unhelpful woman in St. Louis). Poor souls - they never knew what hit 'em.

Comcast, you are a fat, stupid, dirty whore, and I hate you.