Rant, because well, have you seen

the address of this blog?

SBC sucks. There I've said in print, print that might even be searchable if my blog was of any real import or majorly read, neither of which is the case. Anyway. You may remember, my dear few but loyal readers, that several weeks ago my phone line was crossed with a neighbor's (who gets way more phone calls than we do - I'm still peeved about that fact). Well it mysteriously ended, I assume our social director neighbor contacted the phone company.

The other day while on the endless loop of "press 1 for no help, press 2 for even less" hell to reinstall voicemail, our phone line developed a bad case of static. To the point where one could barely hear what the technician (??) was saying.

I called to report the problem (again the endless loop, which I have determined is a way to keep you busy while you wait endlessly and is entirely pointless since they ask for the same information you have punched or dryily spoke in the phone before a live person appears) telling them that the static is so bad I can't really hear them and the only time it subsides is when my neighbor gets on the line and I can hear her call as if it is happening in my living room. With this information I assure them that it is their problem, that my inside lines are not the problem since they are trying to tell me to unplug and replug the phone jacks. ARGGGH. We decide on an appointment time, Wednesday between 1-5pm. I assure them that it doesn't matter whether we are home or not since the problem is outside.

Sure enough we are out doing the Puppyman walk, going to the post office to mail off seasonal cards and a lovely DVD which The Girl Friend has created about our new niece when they come, leaving a note on the door saying, "Oh so sorry you weren't home so we didn't even try to do anything. Please call again and wade through the much hated useless, endless loop of voicemail so we can try again to not solve your problem".

I call this morning. I know this is long, but please bear with me, I rarely rant here {smirk}. This time dailing 611 which has a blessedly short endless loop and I don't even have to wait too long for a live person. The gentleman was rather pleasant while I fumed about the incompetency of SBC, stating for the record that since I have had other such problems with this monolith of uselessness that I am not surprised that despite the fact that the problem is with them, that their so-called well trained technician/repair person couldn't even figure out that the phone lines travel from the street to the back of the house, which was entirely accessible to them and they could have fixed the damn thing yesterday.

In theory, they will appear sometime tomorrow and the nice gentleman, who probably took a long sip from his flask after getting off the line with me, said he would explain as carefully as possible how to access the phone box attached to the outside of our home.

**You may wonder how we know whether the phone call if for us, or Susie the Social Director. It's simple, when it's her line, no caller ID information shows up. So if we don't pick up when you call, it's that we are out. Or that we are peeved at you for some mysterious reason that we will never discuss with you, and let our anger fester until it blows up at some totally bad time, like your child's christening where we are the godparent when we will let loose a stream of words that have never seen the inside of a house of worship and lightening will surely strike you dead for letting us hold on to such anger at you for so long.