CHAPTER TWO:
Madness Before Internet
If those far-sighted drafters of the Declaration
of Independence were working on that brilliant and angry document today, they
might well declare for “life, liberty and Internet access” as inalienable
rights for all Americans.
It took us nearly six weeks to
get Internet access in Santa Fe. I
had to deal with three different corporations and many, many so-called “telephone
trees” which always warned me that “the menu has changed” before letting me
listen to music likely to accompany a long, deep tooth cleaning.
(Our outgoing phone message now
warn callers before recording their messages that “Our menu has changed and we
are substituting French fries for baked potatoes…”)
The people working for the
companies I called fully understood that I wanted/needed to roam the Internet,
to submit stories, wine columns and movie reviews on deadline, to send disgusting
jokes at nearly the speed of light to my friends (that being a most highly
valued quality of the Internet) and to enjoy the constant reminders that my
penis needed enhancing. (Come to
think of it, perhaps access to the Internet is overrated.)
I began my campaign for
Internet access by calling a Santa Fe phone company a week before arriving in
Santa Fe. I was referred to a company
called “All Connect” which promised to visit our home and, by putting us on the
Internet, allow the possibility that someone in Nigeria would choose us to
share in the $20 million held hostage in his home country. (OK, maybe Internet access is very overrated.)
On the appointed day at the
appointed time for The Grand Installation, no one showed up.
No one called us to say that
there was some difficulty about keeping the appointment.
There was no communication
whatsoever from “All Connect,” a company which, despite its title, had some
difficulty connecting with us.
It is interesting that the
company is called “All Connect” and not “All Connect Except You.”
We’re not particularly
difficult with which to connect.
People selling us a better telephone plan, extended automobile
warranties or looking for contributions to phony charities constantly find it
easy enough to telephone us during dinner or the fourth quarter of game six of
the Celtics vs. the Lakers.
We were quickly to learn that local custom dictates that,
upon missing any appointment, the company or service personnel make no effort
to call, explain, or even politely demur.
In fact, to paraphrase the infamous quote from the film “Love Story”
(1970), a missed appointment in Santa Fe means never having to say you’re
sorry.
No comments:
Post a Comment