Putting the ASS back in 'assistance'
"Oh, God, not THIS guy again."
Our local deity, being uncharacteristically busy with the lives of the other billions of people on this planet, chose to overlook the fact that, even under the best of circumstances, I cannot stand tech #89.
"Best," of course, not being the day after a series of days where you've had to continually reboot the cable modem so that you can test your code. Nor is "best" the day that your quest to buy groceries turns into a multiple-grocery-store chase, just to find the [damned] Gruyère cheese for tonight's dinner, immediately followed by racing back to ensure you were home for the 1p.m.-5p.m. window that the cable guys always demand.Therefore, in the global view of things, I suppose it wasn't any big deal to send tech number eighty-nine to our house.
Understand that I've wanted to fling used kitty litter at this man ever since he informed me a few months ago that we couldn't expect our cable modem to work correctly until we stopped connecting it to our linux box, and instead connected it to a Windows-based machine. (Sir, please don't let me forget to whack you with our cluebat as you exit the building…)
Or, to quote Colter, this guy puts the 'ass' back in 'assistance.'
So, let's get matters straight. We call the cable company last night, and tests were run. From our trouble ticket:
Problem Category: HSD_Connection | Cable Modem | Faulty
So, we have a faulty cable modem. Sure, they say, we'll send someone out and we'll get that cable modem replaced tomorrow.
Then I get a glimpse of the guy through the glass of the front door. Once I realized it was Mr. Needs-Cluebat, my mood darkened noticeably. I greeted him rather perfunctorily and led him to the computer room.
"So what's the problem?"
"Don't they tell you anything on the trouble ticket?"
"Well, yes, but I like to ask the customer what's wrong."
I pointed to the cable modem. "All of the lights will be on and steady, signaling a connection, but we don't actually have any connectivity. We have to kick the modem to make it work."
"You have to physically kick the modem?"
"No. We reboot the modem." (Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out where I put that damned cluebat.)
"I want to plug the cable modem directly into the computer."
(Isn't it already? Oh, wait! Let's bring someone else in on this. If he wants to touch the server, I'm calling Jeff. Now.)
"Hold on. I want you to speak to my husband." I phone Jeff, and hand the phone to the tech. (Later, Jeff confirmed to me that he explained to the tech that the modem already was connected to the main computer.)
He fiddled with the cable modem—forcing it to reboot and re-register to the network. (Which, I might add, we have done numerous times ourselves. If that was the root of the problem, we would've solved it ages ago.) I asked him to write down what he did (admittedly, I was snippy about it), but he did not.
He proffered the work order and said, "Sign this." I signed it to get him out of the house, preferably before I located where we'd put the cluebat and did him some serious mental good. He hadn't run any tests on our equipment, nor did he even bother to bring in a new modem, despite the fact that the work order contained the following:
"NEEDS MODEM REPLACED, NO SIGNAL
PROBLEMS THROUGH ROUTER BUT NOT ABLE TO PING WHEN SHOWING ONLINE AT MODEM"
Can't wait to tell the cable company this. While their line is busy, I'm going to nose around the house and find that damned cluebat and store it under my desk. I wonder how they're going to explain not even bringing any hardware into our house when they were supposed to replace our modem.
Cluebat, indeed.
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