March 25, 2009: Don’t tell work, but just this past weekend I finally got internet (and cable. basic) for my apartment. When one looks at a computer screen for 10+ hours/day, the last item on the after-hours to-do list is to stare at yet another screen, computer or otherwise. And as you’re no doubt familiar, the actual installation happens sometime within a pre-assigned 4-hour window, during which you’ll expect a visit from The Cable Guy (what would we ever do if a Cable Gal showed up?). I just wonder what you have to do to get yourself at the TOP of his list, as I’ve never, in allllll my moves and years of booking dates with The Cable Guy, actually received a visit within that window.
However, when The Cable Guy does rap on my door I answer, mentally morphing him into a Cowboy (white wirey lasso included), there to save me from certain offline death, “Ma’am, I’m here to hook up your cable.” Suddenly this sounds like a bad porno script. Oooo! Maybe THAT’S how I make it to the top of the list. Or why he was so late to begin with.