The Comcast Chronicles

Jamal tells me the problem might be in the outside line, but he has to check the basement first - and my landlady's not here to let him in the basement.

"I'm-a have to cover my ass, know what I'm sayin?" he tells me. "I have to reschedule this for when your landlady's here, 'cause I can't order a line crew until I check the basement."

I feel my blood pressure rising. Again.

"Why should I have to be inconvenienced again when your technician is the one who didn't request the line crew?" I say through clenched teeth.

"Well, you see, he's a contractor, right?" Jamal says. "And see, he's not an employee, so I can't do nothing about that. Understand what I mean?"

"No, I really don't," I said. "Your company really, really sucks."

He tells me he doesn't disagree. "See, you need to call and you need to tell them you're calling downtown, because what happens is, shit rolls downhill. You'd better believe it. You tell them you're calling the 26th floor, and they'll get things moving."

So after he leaves, I call. I threaten them with the 26th floor, I tell them in the past year, I haven't had internet access for more than six weeks without a service call.

I tell them I'm a beaten woman and I can't take it anymore. That I'm unemployed and I can't get online long enough to find a job and send out resumes.

I demand a "big, fat credit" for all the aggravation I've been through.

Jackie gets me an immediate credit for my balance. I'm feeling a lot better, and I thank her.

"I don't care whether you're a discount customer or what," she said. "You're paying for a service, you should get it."

(FYI - the signal dropped five times during the writing of this post and I had to reboot the modem that many times. Just so you get some idea of how maddening this is... oops, it just dropped again. Make that six. No, seven. Arghhh....)