Stone Knives and Copper Wiring.
Feb. 18th, 2014 03:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogI've been stuck in the house for almost the entire day. Prisoner of Second Avenue The Phone Company.
They'd given us a 1-5 p.m. window for the switchover of our wiring from copper to fiber optic. Various phones started ringing starting much closer to 8 a.m., though. Some were ghost calls, of the type we've been getting all week on our house line and, lately, the line going to the fax machine. But a couple of them were from Art- my Verizon service tech. He might be able to get over early and would that be okay.
Hey. May as well. I never would've gotten back here by 1 anyway, and Eleanor works until 2, so kewl.
Except, nothing. I puttered on things not requiring the outside world, made lunch, and then, round 1:30, the call came. Art was just finishing up. I asked for a few minutes of dispensation, since Eleanor forgot the grocery list and I wanted to run it (and some coupons) over to her. No problem, he replied.
When I left the house, I saw a Verizon van. In our neighbor Betty's driveway. She's been having the same problems with her one and only phone line just as we have, and it turned out she picked the same day for the same repair.
Moments later, she called my cell, as I was driving down Sheridan. My repairman needs to get into your back yard and the dog is out.
Oh, I said, and then, I had to ask. Is your repairman named Art, by any chance?
No, it's Tim.
You betcha. Two identical problems, with identical solutions, and they send two different guys on two different work schedules on two different trucks.
Yup, that's us. The Phone Company car park.
Our dude didn't get here until after I got back from erranding, but he (and Tim) have been slogging around the snowpack, and up the pole at the far corner of our yard, for close to an hour now. I still have stuff requiring being out and about, but Eleanor's still not home. Ebony, of course, is apoplectic about the whole business, although once she gets to lick them she'll be fine.
They'd given us a 1-5 p.m. window for the switchover of our wiring from copper to fiber optic. Various phones started ringing starting much closer to 8 a.m., though. Some were ghost calls, of the type we've been getting all week on our house line and, lately, the line going to the fax machine. But a couple of them were from Art- my Verizon service tech. He might be able to get over early and would that be okay.
Hey. May as well. I never would've gotten back here by 1 anyway, and Eleanor works until 2, so kewl.
Except, nothing. I puttered on things not requiring the outside world, made lunch, and then, round 1:30, the call came. Art was just finishing up. I asked for a few minutes of dispensation, since Eleanor forgot the grocery list and I wanted to run it (and some coupons) over to her. No problem, he replied.
When I left the house, I saw a Verizon van. In our neighbor Betty's driveway. She's been having the same problems with her one and only phone line just as we have, and it turned out she picked the same day for the same repair.
Moments later, she called my cell, as I was driving down Sheridan. My repairman needs to get into your back yard and the dog is out.
Oh, I said, and then, I had to ask. Is your repairman named Art, by any chance?
No, it's Tim.
You betcha. Two identical problems, with identical solutions, and they send two different guys on two different work schedules on two different trucks.
Yup, that's us. The Phone Company car park.
Our dude didn't get here until after I got back from erranding, but he (and Tim) have been slogging around the snowpack, and up the pole at the far corner of our yard, for close to an hour now. I still have stuff requiring being out and about, but Eleanor's still not home. Ebony, of course, is apoplectic about the whole business, although once she gets to lick them she'll be fine.