Originally published April 2015.

At the time of writing this article, I've been living at my new apartment for a total of 26 days. In that time, baseball season has begun with the SF Giants enduring a painful start. In that time, I've managed to visit IKEA 3 times, which is 2 more times than I did for the past 8 years. In that time, I've managed to completely move everything over from my previous home as well as unpack and organize all of my boxes, for the most part. Yet, I've only had the internet in my home for less than 48 hours.

It's not that I haven't tried to get connected until two days ago. The internet is a luxury of the first world that I enjoy and like to use for both entertainment and professional reasons. Nonetheless, the fates of the universe conspired to make this a drawn-out and inconvenient experience. I feel that if I were any less satisfied with having my own space, or if I didn't have my phone's data plan so I could at least answer the emails and pay my bills, I'd be tearing my hair out from frustration. Instead, I've just tried to get the issue resolved as quickly and patiently as possible.

Since one of my favorite places to vacation is a cabin on an island that doesn't have cellphone service or an internet connection on a regular basis, I'd say I'm mentally prepared for this sort of scenario. Everyone I've talked to thus far about my experience, however, is astonished I haven't killed someone yet, as their reliance on the internet has become such a mandatory part of their lives it is almost unthinkable that a person could live without it for 20+ days. Nonetheless, I persevere with my collection of books, Blu-rays, DVDs, and offline video games, reminding me why I enjoy having things that don't need an internet connection in a world that is constantly trying to push it on me.

Perhaps my time without the net has still left me desiring some sort of cathartic release, however, as I find myself wanting to share my experience with anyone willing to read it, especially now that I finally have it available at home. So please, allow me to spin you a tale of customer service perils and trials of patience and fortitude in my quest to retrieve the net that has been lost at sea for about 20 days.

Before getting into the details of the experience, a short disclaimer: The names of the companies and parties involved have been changed or made anonymous as I do not intend for this to be a biased article of libel or slander. I have no intention of bringing more attention to anything other than the circumstances and what to consider after it's all said and "done." However, I'm sure many people will be able to figure out one of the parties involved without much difficulty; I'm not going to try that hard to cover it up.

Migration

Up until April 1st, I had been living at the same residence since July of 2011. While my residency there was anything other than ideal, it still provided a roof over my head and led to various professional and personal opportunities, Dagon Dogs and Hounds of Innsmouth included. It was dubbed the House of Innsmouth: home to parties, band practice, and blatant alcoholics. The street was lively with other houses and apartments frequently having their own fiestas and band practices--typically consisting of mariachi bands--and it was located near several great restaurants and delis. The internet at the house? It was okay. It was far from perfect but it did the job, the price for service was never raised, and towards the end of my tenure there, it certainly served its purpose with video uploads to YouTube.

Then came the legal troubles for our landlord. I do not know the details of his situation, but essentially some documents regarding the ownership of his property were passed between various parties without informing him and he decided to sue. Since the ownership of his property and whom he had to pay for his mortgage came into question during this process, it's safe to assume that people who wanted money were willing to do what they could to get their money. After a few false scares with people saying they'd purchased the property and several months later, a more persistent investment company "purchased" the property and gave an eviction notice to us and our landlord.

I had already been craving a new home for myself for over a year and after nearly 4 years at the House of Innsmouth, I was ready to leave, so it seemed as good a time as any to do so. Since the eviction was being served by the new "owners" we had 90 days to vacate the premises; I left in less than 30. The house hunting brought me to various apartments with their own particular pros and cons, as anyone would experience. In the end, I ended up going with the most expensive choice due to the fact that it was the one on my shortlist that was closest to my work, closest to public transportation, the most private, and it was recently renovated--one would assume fewer problems with an apartment that had just been inspected and updated, right? Coming from a home that was built during World War II and last updated while Bush Sr. was president, I was ready for new appliances, new floors, and a new start, even if it was going to cost a lot to do so.

So I packed up my things and got out of the house within a week of signing the lease. It was a rush job, but my girlfriend and I were efficient and motivated. By April 1st, I had already gotten the ball rolling on the usual utility checklist and had signed up for my new ISP (Internet Service Provider). When I signed up, the person on the phone told me the process would be very quick and simple as all that it is these days is just flipping a switch on their side and then using the modem they provide. I wouldn't even need to be there for the technician to show up as they just needed to come by and see that a signal was being sent to the building.

I had to wait for the modem to arrive in the mail before installing it, but on April 4th, I was able to remove it from its package, plug it in, and watch its little lights turn on. That's when my ordeal began.

The ISP

When I first joined with my Internet Service Provider, I had heard the horror stories. A majority of people I knew who were their customers, hated them. They hated them on a level that would actually bring heat to their face. Others viewed the ISP much like parents disappointed with their college-dropout child who had wasted several years of college tuition money on trying to achieve a degree that required more than just showing up to class within the scheduled time range and "cram sessions" of smoking pot to pass.

I joined my ISP knowing that so many people disliked them, but they were the only one in the area that promised the internet speeds I wanted. So, I figured I'd give them the benefit of the doubt. While they were barely able to resolve my issue in the 3 weeks I've been here, and have billed me a substantial amount for this past month in which I've been able to use the internet a whopping 36 hours, I don't hold them 100% to blame. That isn't to say they've retained all the good faith I had at the start, but the other party involved has definitely helped inflate my frustration.

Who is the other party involved? We'll get to them. For now, let's continue the story.

The Trials

So, by April 4th, I had unpacked and set up my computer in my apartment. In the evening, after spending a day unpacking the boxes in the living room and organizing my bookshelves, I decided to set up the internet before going to bed. I unpacked the modem, found the one cable outlet in the apartment, which was right by my "office nook"--that's what it was called in the advertisement--and plugged it in. The instructions provided told me that once I had plugged it in, the next step was to wait for all the lights to come on. After that, I needed to wait for the Connect light to stop blinking and become solid. I was then to plug my computer in and go on the internet to register my equipment. But I never made it past the power light.

The light above Connected, the US/DS light, flashed and blinked, but never went solid. I looked through the documentation that came with the device, but nothing provided me answers to my questions. All that the documents said was that it could take 10 minutes to connect; I found a stray document that said 20 minutes, just to add to my confusion and dismay. I looked through their online FAQ on my phone for twenty minutes as well and still found nothing. Since their documentation was inconsistent I had to be sure, so in case they meant 200 minutes instead of 20, I let it sit for a little while before calling up customer support.

I had to converse with the phone bot a bit and tried troubleshooting it that way. It offered to reset the router for me, but couldn't because, lo and behold, there was no connection. I asked to speak to a person, but it was 11 PM by this time and the ISP's customer service department was closed from 1 AM to 4 AM EST. So I left the little glowworm on overnight and decided to call back in the morning if it was still blinking.

Sure enough, it was. This time I called an hour earlier in the day, as I figured this could take a while. I had to go through the bot again, and even when I immediately requested to speak to an agent, I still had to talk to it and listen to its rhetorical questions about all the cool features of the ISP's app. Finally, I talked to my first customer service representative. He was kind, courteous, patient, and understanding, though, he did not sound like he knew everything there was to know about my issue. I walked him through the steps I had performed and he walked me through the steps I needed to perform (and had already performed), which consisted of the all too common words spoken on the sitcom The IT Crowd: "Have you tried turning it off and on again?" When our cordial cordless phone dance was complete, he had come to the conclusion that it was simply a bad modem that was likely damaged in the shipping, something he said "happens all the time." Not a great excuse as perhaps they should just deliver the things with their technicians if they can't trust their shipping service.

When I asked him what to do with my faulty modem, he gave me two options: Bring it to the closest ISP-owned store and exchange it for a working one for free, or have a technician come out and install it for me for a fee. There was a small problem with taking either route, as it happened to be Easter that day and their offices were closed. Not to mention that no technician would be able to come out and fix it that weekend. So I decided to go the delayed free route and survive another day without the internet.

Monday rolled around, and on my way home from work, I stopped in at my local ISP office to make the exchange. I waited in line and witnessed another horror story in the works involving the patient customer service representatives having to tell an irate customer the always-upsetting news that they were going to have to pay more than what they originally suspected. My second customer service rep took my box exchanged the item and fumbled with the contents with as little emotion as possible, as is necessary in that type of position. He barely said anything as he went through what was likely to be an all-too-common routine. I left with what I "needed" within 20 minutes.

I got home, unpacked the new Christmas tree, plugged it in, and watched with pessimism and anticipation. Sure enough, as I had feared, it did the same exact thing as the last one. I immediately got on the phone with my ISP's customer support and ran through the same bot gauntlet before talking with my third customer support person.

This one was just as pleasant as the first and seemed a little more informed, or at least willing to listen to my scenario before attempting to go through the phone tango that I did before. This time he said that it was likely a different issue than the modem, but that it would require a technician to come out and look at the issue, which would require that I stay home from work a day and wait around for him or her to show up. They penciled me in for a guy to come by in the afternoon during the Wednesday of that week.

The technician showed up with an hour to spare during the 3-hour range they had given me. He was a big friendly dude who was definitely all about getting the job done as quickly as possible. Since I hadn't gotten a couch yet, getting to the coaxial cable port was an easy task. He hooked up his gear to the port: no signal. He walked down to the maintenance room where the cable and phone lines come in. He maneuvered around the recycling and trash bins stored there and checked every one of the wires: a strong signal. So, somewhere between that room and my apartment, something was either in the way or missing.

He checked for other ports in the apartment, but no such luck. I had a single coaxial cable port in my apartment, which was clearly meant to be used for internet purposes, based on its location. If there was another, which seemed rather unlikely since I didn't take note of any other cable ports when I first saw the apartment, it had already been covered up by the various other furniture I had managed to put up in the living room. He then told me the bad news: it was an issue with the wiring.

Since it was a renovated apartment, I may have gotten a unit with a cut cable or it might have been wired to nowhere. The worst part: He couldn't do anything. At least that's what he said. He told me that this was a situation that required rewiring and that was the responsibility of the property management. He didn't wait around for me to call them for more details, however, and promptly left.

This leads me to question the role of an ISP technician. What would the technician have done during the installation process that I was offered as my second option with my first CS rep? If I need my property management to hook everything up when the situation strays outside the typical troubleshooting scenario, which I guess is turning the modem off and on again after checking to see that a signal is coming through--something I could do myself by plugging in my fucking modem--what the hell do I need a technician for? Emotional support?

At the end of this nonsensical situation, I or someone else may need it, but at this point, I just wanted my internet hooked up. Unfortunately for me, my ISP claimed to not be the one responsible for rewiring equipment. That is for the other party in this ordeal.

Mismanagement

Once again, I have no interest in naming names or making this article a witch hunt against businesses, this is merely a log of my experience as I struggle to overcome the challenge of installing the internet. Never mind the fact that this shouldn't be a challenge, at least according to the person who originally told me about the installation process. Yet this obstacle did not truly evolve into the ordeal that it has become until my ISP basically said it was out of their hands.

So after the ISP technician left my home after giving me the bad news that he doesn't actually do anything other than pull on coaxial cables all day, I called up my property management offices and they directed me to the repairs department. No one answered, so I left a message with my contact info. I then emailed the representative of the management group with whom I've conversed in the past because things needed to be fixed upon first moving in, such as the screen door to the back patio or the hinges to the storage container. She responded to my email within a couple of hours and said she had forwarded the email to the person in charge of utilities for all their apartment buildings.

Friday rolls through, I get no follow-up emails or phone calls from either. Saturday and Sunday pass and I figure, sure, they don't check email on the weekends. Monday passes and I send a quick email to the Utilities person. A week passes. It is April 15 and still, I have gotten nothing from this utilities person. Instead of waiting any longer for her to respond to the email I call up Repairs again.

The woman responded and was rather confused and slightly taken aback by what I was requesting. To some, it may have come across as rude, but I think she legitimately did not understand the fact that I was asking for them to rewire my apartment. However, due to the fact that I didn't have this suggestion in writing from my ISP, and since they were under the impression that the ISP was in charge of wiring and rewiring homes for cable and internet (much like I was), construction was not in their agenda.

So I asked, "What can I do to get internet in my home?" The repairs rep instructed me to contact my ISP once more and get it in writing that I need my property management company to fix the issue for me. I summoned the will once again to go through the ISP phone bot so I could talk to my fourth customer service representative from the ISP.

Deuces

The fourth ISP rep was just as kind, courteous, and informative as the third. However, he was not able to pull up information about the technician's visit, such as notes or recommendations since it was never recorded and all spoken word. I was quickly catching on that my ISP did not have much of a system for documenting their customers' issues, as though we were all living in the ideal reality where customers just called to chat and ask how things were going.

How, in the world in which we live today, where I can't make a purchase in a store without someone asking if I'd like to sign up for a membership so they could track my purchases and advertise to me, does a company not use the same sort of tracking technology to see that I've already talked to several service reps and the issue is not resolved? I digress.

I disclosed my situation in its entirety to the fourth representative as quickly as possible so his track record for resolving issues in less than 5 minutes wasn't tarnished by my silly phone call. The best he could do was send more technicians out who could then inspect the situation in person and document their findings, giving me the material I needed so that I could email my property’s repairs department. This, of course, required me to be present at the apartment, and thus take more time out of my work schedule to accomplish.

So Friday, April 17th rolls around and I get home early to wait for a few hours before the scheduled technician shows up. This time, two appeared at my door with an hour to spare in the guaranteed time range. They were friendly, approachable people who went through the same series of questions and answers with me that the first technician did. I waited to inform them of the request from the apartment complex's repairs department to see if they could somehow fix the problem themselves.

They couldn't. Unfortunately, they had no new tools or techniques at their disposal to resolve the issue any differently than the last. They also had to deal with less-than-ideal environments while they worked as not only was the living room more furnished than before with less room to work, but the maintenance room was overflowing with trash; our trash collectors had not removed the bins the previous two weeks, for some reason. So, as they did their best to lean over the filthy trash cans to check the connections, I posed my question about the document the repairs department needed.

"We don't really have an official document or paperwork we could use to write our recommendation for you. If you have a pen and a piece of paper we could sign it for you, but that's about it. If you want something with the [ISP Name] logo on it, I can talk to my supervisor about emailing it to you," the technician with a free hand told me. Great, they obviously weren't informed of what I was going to need before they came here.

He called his supervisor and shared the information with him. He then provided me his email and phone number to ask him myself and give him the necessary contact info. As I was writing down the info, I asked if this seemed like an unusual request to them and the one who had been leaning over the trash working said: "Yes, we would usually just run a new line into the apartment." That's when the other chimed in saying that they no longer had a construction department, which shocked his partner a bit who had apparently been on vacation for several weeks due to knee surgery. This was surprising to me and would soon be surprising to my apartment's repairs department once I called them, which I did shortly after the technicians had given up fixing my issue and left.

I told the repairs manager that they had come by and given their advice on the issue as well as the fact that it was the apartment management's responsibility to fix this issue. She still asked for an official document on this statement, however, so I tried to get in contact with the supervisor.

Sadly for me, after leaving several voicemails and emails over the weekend for the mysterious supervisor, who could only come out when the wind was quiet and the stars lit the path to Orion, my third week in the new apartment was starting and there was no sign of a solution on the horizon.

The Hand that Feeds

Much like any long adventure, in which the adventurer traverses an unknown and wild landscape, a side-quest popped up along the way that became more and more of a nagging issue during my internet crisis. Since I had signed up for my ISP's service at the beginning of the month, it seemed only natural for them to send me the bill for the month by the 10th. Payment was due by the 25th. Obviously, when I first received the bill, I scoffed at the ridiculous nature of it. Nothing quite like getting a bill for a service you've yet to try!

It was made slightly more ironic by the fact that the email that directed me to the bill seemed to be loaded with language to evoke pride in the fact that they took the time to make a "personalized" video to describe and outline my bill. Considering the fact that for the past few months at work, I had been creating training videos on how to use my company's software, I was less than impressed by the effort that must have been required to make the standardized video use my name somewhere in their text. I don't think there's any way to present a bill that will make someone feel like they're having fun paying it. So why bother creating a video? It only shows that you're willing to place your efforts in the wrong places because you still don't seem to care about me as a customer. It's part of the reason I hate a particular brand of car insurance. They put so much effort (money) into creating dozens of different commercials for every channel on TV or video on the internet, which often try to use humor that falls flat or makes no sense, I question how much effort (money) they'll have left to take care of their customers when they need insurance.

So thanks for the bill with bright colors and music explaining why I'm paying you 40 bucks extra for the month since it's the first month. Too bad I haven't used a single bit of it so far. This is what I thought to myself when I first received the bill, still light in the heart and optimistic that I would actually have the internet hooked up by the time I would have to pay it.

Jump ahead a week and a half, and it's April 20th, five days to the bill's due date. Since I had gotten an email for it, I figured I'd pay the bill online, which I obviously couldn't do at home, so I did it during one of my breaks at work. I went to my ISP's website and tried to sign in with my email and what I assumed was my password. No luck.

I then clicked the "Forgot Password?" link as I typically have to these days because I'm a member of so many different services that I have to remember countless passwords, I figured it was 1 of 20 different combinations I had in circulation. Unfortunately, I ran into a familiar snag with my ISP's password recovery. There was no record of my account with the email I used for the ISP--the one they used to send me the bill. So I tried to create an account, but I kept getting an error saying that my account already existed. I wasn't about to assume this meant I could skip paying the bill, but I was willing to bet that this was all because I had never gone through the typical account creation process one would go through if their equipment, well, worked in the first place.

Since that wasn't going to happen any time soon, I contacted customer support. I chose to use their live chat method of contact this time as I had spent enough time talking to them on the phone--the very thought of having to listen to the stupid bot tell me how great their internet was already made my strikes on the keyboard a little heavier. I typed in the necessary information and waited about 3 minutes before the representative on the other end answered. This one was spared the synopsis of my internet woes. I simply told him/her that I couldn't access my account to pay my bill and that I apparently didn't have an account.

This agent was quick to send me the standard responses that were surely hotkeys. They then assured me that this was a common issue. Once again, not very reassuring when stuff like this is common. The agent went on to say they would just create the account for me and gave me a temporary password. This was a quick process that took less than 10 minutes, but there was a slight problem I had during this exchange.

In between telling me about how this issue was going to be resolved, the ISP drone attempted to sell me an upgrade or promotional package to their service. I could tell immediately that what went to me in chat was clearly one of many pre-written messages that the representative likely had to send in every interaction with a customer to meet some sort of quota. While I may not be able to remember every password I use for my online accounts, the memory of having to sell pre-orders and shitty magazines at a local video game retailer was still quite fresh in my mind. So I could sympathize with the situation, even if the person on the end did not share my disdain for corporate quotas and mandatory marketing to customers while they're really pissed off about a service they have yet to try. My empathy didn't completely snuff out my irritation, but I managed to decline as politely as I could manage without feeling like I was being rude.

I then brought up the very reason why I was creating my account in the first place and if there was any way I could reduce, or remove the cost of my bill considering the circumstances. They then transferred me to a billing agent who would later tell me they could take off some, but not all of my charges for NEXT month's bill, since this one was already made up by April 10th. Rather than share any more about my interactions with the second representative, I'll simply pose a question to you: What do you think the billing agent had in common with the previous agent? Once my account and billing issue was "resolved" it was time to refocus my efforts on my main quest.

A Clue, Sherlock!

I then tried contacting my property manager again with the updated details of my situation. I told her everything up to this point in the story with much less sarcasm and fewer sentences in an email that was short enough to read on a phone, but still felt relatively long-winded. She responded promptly with her apologies that this was still an issue and told me that she would handle this as quickly as possible.

Later in the afternoon of the same day, I received an email. The email had been sent from the woman with whom my property manager had originally tried to put me in contact. I saw that, like before, my original email had been forwarded to the same address. The difference? The subject line simply said: URGENT.

The secret is out! In order to get the right people to help you when they would much rather ignore your problems, simply put URGENT with nothing else in the subject line. They're sure to at least read the message, right?

At first, I wasn't so sure because something I had chosen to outline in my email was quickly brought into question with the response. To help explain, the last paragraph of my email read:

I tried telling Repairs again about it, but it seems like they're still waiting for this official [ISP] document that no one at [ISP] writes. So I'm stuck in this limbo of trying to reach this guy at [ISP] to give me this document that says what I've already told Repairs needs to happen, for some arbitrary reason, and I still have no internet. I'm wondering who I need to talk to in order to just get the coaxial cable connection into my apartment so I can start using the utility I'm already paying for. Is there anyone you can talk to or escalate this to so this can finally be resolved and I can stop bothering you? What can I do to fix this problem?

You might be able to see in my writing, in my best efforts to remain polite and my frustrations were beginning to seep through as the bitter sting of paying a bill for a service I had yet to enjoy was starting to fester. Up to this point, I had managed to retain a passive, zen attitude towards the situation.

So what if we don't have the internet to entertain us or let me work on my websites at my leisure? That's why we have so many Blu-rays and DVDs to watch and video games to play.

The zen was falling away. Now that I had parted ways with some of my earnings for this mysterious service I had yet to enjoy, my eight-fold path was only awakening me to how fucking irritated I was becoming under the surface of my calm demeanor.

I wouldn't mind living without the internet; I don't feel like I'm missing anything without it. Sure, this blog thing is on the net and I just kind of started it this year with the hopes of writing more frequently and making something productive out of playing video games with my videos on YouTube, but if I were to be forced to give it all up and have to simply stick to the resources I already had, there was still plenty to keep me occupied. I have stacks of books to read, countless games on my video game systems to finish, and the ideas in my head that I should hurry up and motivate myself to put down on paper. Nonetheless, I was still trying to get the internet and the bitterness was beginning to eat away at me. It's the same sort of feeling one likely gets when they realize they have to pay the government MORE money during tax season after already having given up so much of their paycheck for various services from which they've yet to benefit. DIGRESSING AGAIN!

As I was saying, I had an issue with the response to my email from the utilities manager of my property management: the woman whom I should have spoken to weeks ago. Her response read:

Hi Ariel
Attached is the letter of permission you need to give to [ISP] so they can come out and install the cable into your unit.

To which I immediately replied:

Thank you for the email. However, I think my lengthy email might have caused some confusion. The short version is:

[ISP] has said they will not be installing the cable in the unit. They no longer have a construction team, according to their field technicians. They have told me that any cable installation in apartments has to be handled by the property management.

Please let me know if you have any questions. Thank you.

I feel at this point I don't need to explain how I was getting more confused and irritated about who the hell I needed to talk to in order to get the problem fixed, as that should be pretty apparent. It felt as though the finger-pointing of responsibilities was coming to a head. The follow-up email then informed me that it was, in fact, a mistake on the part of the ISP and that they had misinformed me about who was responsible for making sure I had a cable line running into my apartment. She also told me that she requested the ISP call me to set up an appointment for a third visit from their technicians. Immediately after I finished reading said email, I got a call.

The 7th customer service rep I've had to speak to from my ISP since I first joined their service rapidly told me that they wanted to send a technician out to my apartment to fix the issue. She said the soonest available was Thursday the 23rd from 12-2 PM, once again cutting into my work time. As soon as I agreed to the time, she began her spiel in an attempt to get off the phone. I quickly halted her and asked as politely as I could if we were on the same page that the technician was coming out to install the cable, or run the wire, or do whatever else necessary within reason to get my internet into my home, not just tug on cables and shrug his shoulders when he left. She assured me that it was going to be a technician that would be indeed installing my internet.

Thursday came and I raced home from another half-day at work to patiently await the arrival of the ISP tech. He wasn't as punctual as the previous ones and didn't show up until he had only 20 minutes left on the clock. I showed him to the same place and he went through the same routine with his questions and practices. He tugged on the wire and unscrewed the panel like the rest had done. He then went downstairs to the maintenance room, which was no longer overflowing with trash, and did the same things the rest had done, once again showing no signs that he had been informed of the issue, or that he was dealing with a customer who had had a long-standing issue, prior to his visit.

Perhaps he sensed that I wasn't about to let him go without him giving his all, because he called up his supervisor to ask for assistance. Apparently, his supervisor had the tool that he wanted to use to find out where the signal was going and why it wasn't reaching my apartment. And wouldn't you know it? The supervisor was the same mythical beast I had tried to contact for a formal email and could never seem to get a hold of. In 20 minutes, the elusive supervisor was at my front door with the legendary tool. I struggled to contain my excitement.

After catching him up to speed on the situation--because he certainly didn't listen to the voicemails I left or read the emails I sent him--he used his Star Trek tricorder to search for clues. When I say search, I mean he followed the wires from the maintenance room in the direction of the apartment. Since my apartment is an end unit, the further he walked, the easier it was to tell which cable was likely intended to be mine, as in the one cable that was left by the time he got to the end of the building. The cable went into a room underneath my apartment. It looked like the mystery was almost solved, except, the room was locked.

Home Stretch

In order to get into the room, I needed a key from the property manager, who would not be available for another few hours. The technicians were not willing to wait that long, but the supervisor gave me his cellphone number to call him once the door was unlocked so he could swing back around the next time he was available to find out what the problem was. Obviously, I was skeptical of how useful his cell number would be, considering how responsive he had been before, but I assured him that I would be calling him within 48 hours to give him a status on the door.

By 5 PM the next day, the door was unlocked, I had left a voicemail on his cellphone, and he was at my doorstep again with a different technician in tow. In the now unlocked room, my cable was dangling from a hole in the ceiling, which was clearly cut during the recent renovation for safety purposes and never reconnected. The gentlemen then quickly reconnected the crestfallen cable to the line running into the room, checked the outlet in my apartment, and plugged the modem in. On Friday, April 24th, 20 days since I first attempted to connect to the internet, I was able to get online on my desktop computer in my new home. It only took 7 customer service agents, 6 technicians, 2 dozen emails, just as many phone calls, several individuals from my property management, and the patience of either a saint or a psychopath to get it done.

Upon Reflection

So if you've stuck with my story long enough to make it this far down this blog post, I feel it necessary to thank you for your interest and attention. I commend you on making this far and humbly request you share your own opinions or stories. Before I wrap up this blog post epic, I wanted to bring up one final point.

There's a reason I wanted to point out how each person with whom I had to interact in this lengthy process. Even though my ISP certainly lost my goodwill by the time peace was restored to the land and the internet made its way into my living room, and even though it all made me worry about how helpful my property management company would be in the coming months while I live here, I wanted to make sure I never lost sight of the human element that makes up these companies. We tend to forget that companies, which we may despise for one reason or another, are still made up of people who may or may not be doing their best to fix the problem. I certainly encountered several people on both sides who were less than helpful in resolving my issue and it's obvious upon reflection how my headaches could have been reduced if 2 particular players were involved in the game much sooner. Nonetheless, it was important to keep the human element in mind when I asked each person to help me so that I didn't let my frustration overflow and cause any outburst or rudeness that the person didn't deserve to endure.

Having worked in customer service jobs in the past, I know the painful and trying experience of having to help people who are beyond help and who are so past the breaking point that they would just rather yell death threats than wait any longer for you to try and help them. While I hated those jobs, I'm thankful for the perspective as it has brought me the patience necessary to deal with these situations. It would have certainly been nice if my troubles had been properly recorded, if the agents weren't so interested in just trying to close the case instead of resolve it, if the people were actually informed so I didn't have to keep telling the same story to someone new every time, if the technicians had all just looked up and followed the cables as their supervisor did, and if the people I emailed actually read what I sent, but I know what it's like to be in a mindless job you hate, so I empathize.

I just need to stay away from any sort of environment in which I need to interact with customer service agents or people behind registers for a while so I don't snap and kill someone in a blind rage.