Waiting
For Godot
(or
the cable guy)
If there is one job that I figured
certainly would have been eliminated
by the year 2001, it would be
"cable guy." Not that I personally
harbor any animosity towards
cable guys or that I enjoy watching
people put out of work, but
it just seems to me that in
an age when I can check my email
account from my cell phone while
sitting in the Staples Center
in Los Angeles at the Grammys,
there should be a way for the
big, money-laden cable companies
to activate my cable television
without actually having to send
some guy out to my cable-ready
house.
Perhaps
this issue is more important
to me than the average person
because I am currently without
cable television through no
choice of my own. Now before
you blame it all on lack of
planning, let me stress that
I TRIED to do the right thing.
A full week before I moved,
I called my local cable company
and attempted to navigate
through their voice menu system.
After
pressing one for this and
two for that, I finally get
a real person. I tell them
I want cable and give them
the address of my swanky new
pad. They say "We're sorry,
but we already have service
there. We can't disconnect
it until the person whose
name the service is in calls
and disconnects." I explain
that while I don't know the
name of that person, they
no longer live there because,
quite frankly, my boxes of
junk are filling the place.
They apologize again and say
"We can't do anything until
she disconnects it."
I
go to the new place and plug
in the TV and sure enough
- cable. I assume this is
one of those happy karmic
accidents - perhaps some sort
of payback for all the times
my cable went out when I lived
in the backwoods of Massachusetts.
I knew eventually I would
have to switch it over in
my name - either the previous
tenant would get a bill and
realize she still had cable
at my house or she would never
get a bill and they would
disconnect her. Either way,
nothing I could do about it
now except watch VH1 and MTV
from my new couch. Only wish
she had HBO.
Well,
yesterday my, um her, cable
was gone. Nothing but static.
Well, static in stereo on
the big screen, but still....
So
I called the cable company
again, typed a novella on
my phone, and finally got
to a customer service representative.
"Hi,"
I said. "I want cable."
"Well,
Mr. Totten, the soonest I
can have someone out there
is next Tuesday."
Next
Tuesday? That's like a week
away!
"Can't
you just flip a switch or
something?" I ask, wanting
to add that they didn't need
to send anyone out to turn
it off.
"I
wish we could, Mr. Totten"
she said with a chuckle, like
I'd asked if she could teleport
or something. "Now if you
want basic cable, there will
be a $48 fee for the installation."
By
installation they mean, of
course, just turning it on.
Oh - and maybe the guy will
plug in my cable box for me
because lord knows those coaxial
cables are REAL tricky.
"But,
Mr. Totten, if you want digital
cable, we can reduce the installation
fee to only $4.95. And digital
cable is only $70 a month.
Yikes
- I've had cars that cost
less than that. Not good cars,
but still....
"And
that includes the basic channels
plus 40 digital music channels
that you can run through your
stereo and fifteen pay-per-view
options. We really think you'll
like it."
See,
here's what I don't get -
I already have a radio where
I can get lots of stations
for free, and a huge CD collection.
Plus Blockbuster is just down
the road for when I want to
watch DVDs and with those,
I can pause it when I need
to get up and make more popcorn
or something. So why do I
want to pay $25 a month to
duplicate services that I
already have?
But
then again, to pay some guy
$48 to come to my house and
basically verify that I have
a TV seems stupid too. I opt
for digital cable for the
first month, and then, once
it is "installed", I'll switch
back to the el cheapo cable
next month which, I was told,
I can change to at any time
at no additional cost.
Of
course, even the el cheapo
cable is still nearly $45
a month. Makes me wonder how
much less it would cost of
they just got rid of the cable
guys all together.
C'mon,
it is the year 2001 after
all.
This
column © 2001 Lee Totten
|
