At approximately 3:30 PM on Wednesday, July 12, Earl and I lost both our Internet connection for the computers and our cable connection to the televisions in our home. At the time, it seemed like a momentary thing, some hiccup in the system that would self-cure if we were patient.
Patient meant shutting down our systems, waiting thirty seconds, and then reconnecting them, something Earl and I were completely capable of doing. But when that procedure — which we did several times — did not work, I realized our problem needed a specialist.
In this case, the “doctor” was Comcast, the local company that provides our cable and cable modem service. They’re the ones who claim to be Comcastic all over the media.
I had had experience with Comcast before, so truthfully I dreaded calling the company. For starters, the automated menu of options works hard to prevent the caller from finding a human being. When one finally comes on the line, he or she gives the impression that the customer — that would be me — is stupid for not figuring out the problem herself.
“But I’ve already done the things you’re suggesting,” I said tersely. “I wouldn’t have called you if they had fixed the problem.”
The company rep heaved an audible sigh of resignation and began the process of making an appointment for a technician to visit our home. “You do understand that if it is the fault of your equipment and not our wiring, that you will be billed for this visit?” Of course, I understood; but what could I do except hope that Comcast’s connection to our house and not the connection from the house to our various pieces of equipment was where the hiccups were still occurring?
The final ignominy, however, was that the earliest appointment was today, July 16, between 1 PM and 3 PM. Earl and I would be in the dark, figuratively speaking, for almost five days. Now one of us is a television addict and the other works for a company in New York City and is dependent on the Internet to show up for work each day. I argued these cases, but the Comcast rep held firm. Unlike doctors in the real world, there seems to be no such thing as triage for emergency cases.
It is now six-thirty and the Comcast repairperson just left. The short of it is that the housecall was successful; Earl and I are again connected to our particular lifelines. But the long of it is that the company’s service is only fair at best. Suffice to say that Comcast should reevaluate its current slogan.
Leave a Reply