Yesterday I was unexpectedly home all day due to a minor dental emergency. I popped a crown. Okay so I’m not the model of dental hygiene. I may have spent my early 20’s thinking along the lines of Brittany S. Pierce that Dr. Pepper was a dentist. Sugar and Caffeine are good with carbonation. I’ve grown up a little since then and removed sugar from that combination. Anyway, the dental procedure was simple. Sit in dentists chair, apply glue and wait fifteen minutes.
The rest of the day I was home and, though I spent most of my time in my office/library/place where I keep my elliptical machine that I haven’t set foot on in three months, I did occasionally venture downstairs to check on how TWC’s technicians were doing on installing the cable cards.
The appointment was from 2-4pm. A technician showed up around 2:30 or so and explained that someone would be along shortly with the actual cable cards. He then proceeded to check every cable connection, replacing several connectors including the one behind the wall outlet in the bedroom. He never said anything to me, but I was in the room when, later, he showed the prior shoddy workmanship to his partner with tones of disgust. I do kind of wonder if these guys just replace a bunch of stuff randomly just to make customers feel like they’re getting good service. But this one did catch the precise outlets that I’d identified as needing attention without my having to tell him.
The guy with the cable cards, here forth designated high technician, showed up half an hour after the other guy. I was wondering why so much attention to make sure they get this right? Why two guys? Is my super sekret blog being read by someone in the bowels of TWC? They spend about 20 minutes working on my Tivo before coming out and telling me my Tivo has to be connected to the internet.
It is, I tell them.
High Technician doesn’t believe me. He says he can see the network cable coming out of the Tivo and going into wireless router and then proceeds to tell me that a router needs to be connected to a cable modem. They don’t believe me when I tell them I repurposed the router into a wireless access point to wirelessly bridge to my actual wireless router.
I have to pull up YouTube on my Tivo to demonstrate that it is, in fact, connected to the internet. Clearly they didn’t read my blog or they would have known going in.
After that they get back to work and an hour later I have two cable cards installed and a tuner box so I can get HBO and Showtime. I really must have my True Blood and Californication and Boardwalk Empire is growing on me. Steve Buscemi is a perfect gangster era anti-hero.
After they leave it’s time to pick up my cube. And I must give Sid Dillon’s body shop credit. The car looks great. It seems to drive as well as ever. They got all the big stuff right. What they missed – The car cleaner could have done a better job. Did they really think I needed to keep that 3 week old half full coke bottle? Also, they didn’t fill the washer fluid after they clearly had replaced the washer fluid reservoir. How did they know if it worked? It did work after I filled it, but still, for a $6k car repair a bucks worth of washer fluid seemed an odd place to skimp.
I drove the cube to work today. I think it’s actually lowercase even in its proper name for some reason. Maybe that’s just the trademark name. So I’m on the fence about capitalizing it. Capitalization of my car’s name will from here out, be random. I carpool and it’s my turn to drive on Wednesdays and some Fridays. I have to say, I get jealous of the guys in the back seat. Am I petty to hold a grudge that they get to have seats with plenty of leg room and reclining backs when I have to squish into the back seat of their Prius?
I think I’m going to call perpetual shotgun on days when the Prius driver takes his turn to drive.
Carpooling is efficient. I spend a little more than a quarter of what I used to spend on gas. In return I have to put up with being stuck in close proximity to three other people for two and a half hours a day. The guy who seems to run the carpool – the one who pays for the parking permit – drives a Subaru outback hatchback. I have never sat in the back seat of that car and probably never will. He’s easy to deal with since when he’s not driving he’s coding on his laptop. When he is driving he drives a little more aggressively than me and I drive fairly aggressively.
The Prius driver is very laid back and sleeps when he’s not driving. Not a bad thing except he snores. When I’m not driving, the snoring doesn’t bother me. I usually have earphones in because, while I appreciate the NPR that everyone else listens to, I prefer my morning radio to be music and mindless commentary. I can’t drive with earphones; it’s not safe and possibly not legal. When I drive the radio is on Q98.5 a top 40/pop station. I love classic rock as much as the next guy, but I’ve heard it all a thousand times and the local classics stations morning shows don’t appeal to me.
Anyway, the last guy in my carpool is always on the phone. He’s talking work, but still…it’s annoying to have to listen to all the time. It’s also, in every carpool etiquette list I’ve read, rude. I will turn the radio down for anyone making short phone call such as calling their wife to see if they should pick up dinner. For a phone call that lasts the whole trip I turn the radio up so I don’t have to listen. This guy drives a Camry and it almost has a comfortable back seat. I’m on the tall side of average at a fraction of an inch under 6ft, but I have short legs. Even in the Camry backseat, my head hits the top of the car. Honestly, If I sit up straight, my head hits the roof of pretty much any car but mine. I feel a little bad for this guy because, when I drive, he always sits in the seat where my daughter’s car seat goes – which means the child safety lock is engaged and the door won’t open from the inside. I said almost because I sit in his child’s spot too, but I disengage the child safety lock when I get in and re-engage it when I get out. This is not rocket science.