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When last I left
you, the appointment, with my arch nemesis Charter Communications, aka Professor Moriarty to my Sherlock Holmes, had been made and the stage was set. He had given me a rough ride leading up to our final showdown but I was poised and ready for whatever he was going to hit me with.
After all, he had given me quite the run around leading up to this. Sending me, via telephone, from Irwindale to Ottawa to Orlando in my pursuit of a clear picture on my television which I had suffered with off and on for more than 15 years. During the last week he had done everything he could do deter me from viewing clarity. But this time I was not going to let him and his minions make me settle for anything less than the clear picture I was promised.
So our little chess game continued. When I last spoke to my foe they swore up and down that the very soonest they could make it to my part of the world would be Saturday morning. I work at home so I armed the supervisor with my office number with the instructions that if something changed, like somebody canceling an appointment, to give me a call if they could come by sooner. I wasn’t holding my breath, but it was worth a shot.
I never lose sight of what a slippery little adversary the Professor can be. I always take precautions when attempting to deal with him or his kind. Over the years there are certain things that I have come to learn when expecting the arrival of and communication with a company or a technician.
Number one: If they have been instructed to use one phone number when they have two on file, they will always call the wrong number. What I do, in these days of cordless phones, is to keep one of each extension near me at all times. That way when the bonehead calls the wrong number I have him trapped. The advent of Caller ID has all but eliminated the long-standing excuse of “well, I called and no one was there.” Every call, whether they leave a message or not, is being recorded and stored in the phone, so we have cut the Professor’s henchmen off at the pass.
The second little ploy that one needs to be wary of is the old “the technician/service person will call you before they come” promise. Obviously, this is a total contradiction to what I’ve learned in lesson number one. This rule is rarely adhered to especially when dealing with the Professor. In my current go around with him it even got weirder when the day following my last conversation with the main office, when I was told nobody would be in my quadrant until Saturday, a cable guy snuck by my house and left his business card in my door. I am assuming for no other reason than to torment me, the Professor does enjoy his little tortures.
Snuck is the only way to describe it. In addition to manning both phone lines, I have an intercom that picks up every sound in the house down to a mouse fart when I am in my office. So in addition to him not calling before he came he had to have parked his truck a block away and either tiptoed or crawled on his belly to my front door. Then to add further insult when I called him back at the number listed on the card he never returned my call. I guess it was some kind of cable guy practical joke. It was either that or just another way to fuck with my head. Although it’s not in their literature, surprise visits and customer annoyance are all part of the Charter Experience.
It was finally Saturday morning, C Day (cable day), and I was ready for what I hoped would be my final conflict in this latest battle with the Professor. I say hope because despite all of the information I had given Cable Central about the problem I was experiencing, the response I got was that there wasn’t any guarantee that the technician who would show up would be able to replace the main cable if that is what the problem was.
I knew by the tests that I had run that it had to be either the main line that ran into the house or the “drop” line, that’s the line that comes from the telephone line or pole. I am no professional but I do know that one plus one equals two. When talking to the dopes that answer the phones at the Professor’s Lair it was obvious that I knew more about their product than they did. I explained the problem six times to six different people in hopes of getting the proper person for the job to show up. After this exercise in futility they all gave me the same response, “I’m sorry sir but I am not a technician.” Not to take my alter ego’s name in vain, but no shit Sherlock.
My appointment was scheduled in typical fashion. That is with a broad time window allowing them enough room to make you anxious. My time frame was between 8 am and 12 noon with a call from the technician before he arrived. When 10 am rolls around and you haven’t heard anything yet this is where the anxious part kicks in. You immediately start digging around for the phone number of the cable company, fortunately for me having called it so many times in the last week I had it memorized.
While sitting on hold for the next available operator, I hear a truck pull up in front; I guess pulling into the driveway when you are expected is within the Professor’s company parameters. Of course there wasn’t a phone call letting me know that they were on their way, as promised, but historically that was expected.
My foe, I mean technician, seemed friendly, but the Professor, like the devil, is a master of illusion. I was not looking forward to an all day affair of him duplicating my efforts. So for the 7th time I recounted my story of woe and what I had already done. I told him the history of the main cable having been there for over 25 years even though it should have been replaced over a year ago when I was conned into digital cable. Once again there was no trust on his part in my knowledge of the situation, obviously a lesson taught in cable school. He began testing everything but the main line. Then the ancient words of the Tao crept into the back of my mind “he who does not trust enough will not be trusted.”
As time ticked away and I helplessly watched as he wasted my time and his, I could hear the words of my Dr. Watson, aka Dermot Cullen, when he told me of his similar experience. “Don’t settle and insist that he replace the main line!” So for the next few minutes I went on the offensive and kept repeating what I knew the problem was. “I really think it’s the main line, I really think it’s the main line, I REALLY THINK IT’S THE MAIN LINE.” I began sounding like a parrot with Turret’s Syndrome, hell I was making myself crazy.
Then it happened. It was like the cloudy skies parted and golden rays of sunshine cane streaming in. The all-knowing technician turned and gave me a look that was akin to what I looked like during my hours on hold with the Professor, one of total exhaustion. I had him on the ropes and could feel victory at hand.
He reluctantly ran one test, ONE, on the main line and without looking me in the eye he spoke softly towards the ground, “it appears to be the main line.” I could hear the victory horns sound and cheers of hosanna rang in my head and while I couldn’t do it in front of him, in my mind I was doing a touchdown dance. After the line was replaced my picture was clear and the Professor’s Henchman made his retreat out of my life to his next surprise visit to his next victim.
This round went to me. Hopefully when it’s your turn it will go your way as well. Just remember Dr. Watson’s mantra “Don’t Settle,” especially when you know you are right.
The Shrub Speaks: You've got to be able to speak clearly in order to make this world a more peaceful place. Springfield, Ohio, September 27, 2004
B.D.’s Response: I’m glad to see you finally realize you are not the guy for the job.
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