Adventures With the Cable Company

Three storms ago, lightning knocked out our cable box.

As always, when calling the cable company, I felt small and insignificant as I endlessly punched two for this and eight for that. But, I knew if I had enough faith and perseverance, I would eventually get to the real person.

Notice I said “the” real person, not a real person, because I am convinced there is only one. Her name is Brittany, and I’m guessing she has worked there about a week.

I finally reached Brittany. And, after enduring a fair amount of my pleading, she agreed to send a guy to the house to check it out.

Upon arriving, he immediately began poking in, under and behind the piece of furniture that holds all the TV-related equipment. These are places the cat won’t even go, so I figured I should stay close by in case he ran across that egg we hid and never found on a rainy Easter about a dozen years ago.

Shortly, he surfaced with a look of bewilderment on his face.

I thought he had found the egg.

“You need to upgrade your package,” he said, to which I almost replied, “Well, you need to pull up your pants,” before I realized he was talking about my assortment of TV channels.

He went on to explain that for the same low, low monthly price, we could get twice as many channels as we’re getting now. All I had to do was call and ask.

Oh, yeah, right. I’m going to go through that again. Sure, I am.

He continued his pitch while he switched out the box. Then he left me there alone to lament my outdated package. I flipped through the channels, convinced that for $145 a month I could find something to watch. Click, click, click. I nearly ran down the batteries in the remote before I finally gave in and picked up the phone.

It took a while to get to Brittany, but when I did, she fixed me up. And, almost before I could lie about staying on the line to complete the survey at the end of the call, she had magically conjured up 100 brand-spanking new channels.

And, I must say, I’m a bit under-whelmed.

Instead of four shopping channels, we now have at least nine.

Instead of only having news channels for Democrats or Republicans, we suddenly seem to have the Federalists, Whigs and Dixiecrats covered, as well.

I can now watch endless soccer and golf. I can also get a teardrop tattooed under my eye. I don’t see any of the above happening.

We get twice as many food channels now, which means twice as many shows where some hot-tempered chef yells at a bunch of people who can’t poach an egg.

I now have at least a half dozen channels showing me how easy it is to build a patio in a weekend with a few pavers and a bag of sand.

And, if none of that appeals to me, I can choose from any number of networks where couples argue about which house they are going to buy.

Lots of times, twice as much of something isn’t twice as good. This is one of those times. We don’t even watch that much TV. That’s the irony of the whole thing. We even discussed getting an antenna and going back to the three channel days.

That’ll never happen, I am convinced of it. Besides, I wouldn’t have the heart to break the news to Brittany.

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