The return of the internet

[fbhjr]

Last night, when I got back from sword practice, our internet was down. My wife told me she had been watching Netflix when it just stopped. (She didn’t got to practice as she wasn’t feeling well.)

Our ISP is run by our local town government. So, they have Sunday customer service hours that go from Sunday 10 to 10.
I called about 5:30 and it rang and rang and rang, etc.
I tried from both cellphone and landline. Rang and rang and rang, etc.
So, I used their email and sent them a help request using my cellphone to connect to the net.

This morning, they wrote back to me that the modem probably needed to be reset.
I explained how they told me to do it last time and the fact I did it that way.
They said it was probably that I had plugged the cables in the wrong holes.
Leaving aside how that could happen on its own after years of working, I also pointed out that was unlikely with the modem model I had.


Then they told me this shouldn’t be done over email and I should have called.
I pointed out how I had, with 4 hours of their office hours to go, and they didn’t answer.
“Call when you get home,” they told me.

When I got home I called. A strange, low gravely, voice asked for my information.
“You’re modem is a dinosaur,” he told me. “It’s dead and needs to be replaced.”
“How do I get it replaced?”
“You must bring it here by 7 or wait for us to come to you.” It was 6:30.
“I’ll bring it to you,” I said. “Where do I bring it?”
“Drive west on route 9 until the intersection with the Moe’s and Burger King. Turn right. Take your third right. Go until you come to the preschool. Go behind it to the right where you see the power generator. Ring the doorbell as no one will hear you knock.
“You have 25 minutes.”
The line went dead.

So, I unplugged the modem, got in the car and drove to the appointed place.


There a found a soccer field full of young children with their mother’s watching.
I went behind the school to the door and rang the doorbell.
Nothing.
I called the number again.
“Are you here?” the voice asked.
“I am, but ringing the bell didn’t seem to do anything.”
“The door BEHIND the generator.”
I went behind the generator and there was a door.
“Are you there?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be out.”

There was the sound of many locks unlocking and the door opened. A short man who was a dwarf opened the door.
“I have your new modem,” he said, holding up a box.
“Do I have to sign anything for it?” I asked.
“You must give me your old modem!”
I held it up in my left hand and reached out for the box with my right.
“You must give me the old one!”
“You must give me the new one!”

We exchanged items.

And, it was done. The new one works fine and all I have is a lingering feeling of a David Lynch film...

Comments

[ravena-kade.livejournal.com]

Wow. How strange.

[brickhousewench.livejournal.com]

I swear, true life is stranger than fiction sometimes!

[palusbuteo.livejournal.com]

Rrrrrrrr. Well, glad you have something that works.

Reminds me of when my Bro and I went looking for his new Laptop recently, there is a fellow who refurbs
and sells PC Lappys out of his house between Sutton and South Grafton.

Sign on the street side said park in driveway, enter through back.

Had to walk through the guy's kitchen and living room. His "office" was a walled front porch with
a table, a pile of lappys, and an oxygen machine (and smoldering cigarettes in the living room).
Oh, and two large cats. The "office" had the particular smell of cat piss.

We didn't stay long. Partly as Bro wanted to use his card and the guy would only take cash/check.
Staples takes cards.

[cissa.livejournal.com]

*blinks* Bizarre...

[evrgreen.livejournal.com]

EVerything about this does sound like some weird film-noire...
Or maybe Twin PEaks...
Perhaps you should have found the nearest diner and ordered up some pie..

Glad that you are re-interneted again!