Horror in the Afternoon

As usual, the beginning of this post has little to do with the end except that by writing in this way, I may have contributed to the outcome at the end. Confused? Mwahahaha! That means I have succeeded (wiping tears of evil joy from eyes).

Sorry, if this seems to you to be just mad ramblings of a lunatic. I spent most of the day talking to several different individuals from Technical Assistance unit of my internet provider which should be sufficient to explain my current state of mind. The problem was that my internet provider was not providing. My computer (an Apple iMac) was very helpfully telling me on the screen that there was nothing wrong with its beautifully designed circuits and that the blame lay entirely with the internet provider. Just to be sure, I tested out my office’s laptop and it too could not access the internet.

So I dutifully called the number that was neatly printed on all my internet bills. It is a three digit number that only works with landlines. So I called them up and waited for the appropriate moments in the long drawn recorded message to select my options. Finally, I reached a living person at the other end. I told her that I wanted to report that my service was not working. She asked for my telephone number, my contact details, my account number and the date that I paid my last bill. I answered all her questions patiently.

Then she asked me to go into my computer setup and look for certain information. I told her that is would be a problem as the house phone and the computer is in two different parts of the house. “Oh, she says. In that case, I can’t help you.”

So I told her that I could talk to her and access the computer if I called her on the hand phone but I pointed out that the three digit number does not work when dailing from a handphone. She gives me a different number to call. I ask why this number isn’t printed on the company’s stationery or found on their website. No answer. just a cheery, “Goodbye. Thank you for calling. Glad to have been of service.”

Okay, called the new number, went through all the lengthy preliminary foreplay and got a different operator.  This time I got as far as telling her that I was not getting any service when we were cut off.  I swore into the dialing tone.

On the third attempt, I got a guy at the other end.  He was very polite but he tended to swallow his words and the line was crackly.  Also his English was not fluent and was heavily accented.  This lead to a conversation liberally interspersed with “What?”,  “Pardon”, “Please repeat” and “Huh?”  He tried to suggest that the problem was with my router.  I humoured  him by disconnecting the router and connecting the modem directly to the computer.  Still no service.  Ah, he concludes, it must be your computer setup.  I  am dubious since I tried three separate computers and laptops and none can access the internet.

He says, “Open the system preferences and you should see a file called terminal.app ”

I say, “I have opened the system preference but there is no file called terminal.app.”

He then says look for any file called “terminal”.  I do and find one.  He instructs me to type some code in.  The file does not allow any editing of contents. “Oh, can’t be the right file then.”

Great.  “Any other ideas.”  He suggests trying a number of other files and dialogue boxes.  I try, but what I see is not what he says should appear.

This goes on for what seems like hours.  Finally, we both knew that we could not make it work and agreed to end the relationship  and  see other people.  I will have to wait till next week to get  a technician friend to come see what is wrong and the technical assistance executive will move on to the next victim customer.

And that is the long frightening story of why I am going to have limited internet access till next week and why I am writing this at Starbucks.  And so, finally we reach the end.  Not being able to access my photos for the post I had in mind, I wondered what I could do instead.

Fortunately, Evalinn came to the rescue cause she found this site that analyses your writing and suggests who you write like.  So I put in some text from my blog into the analyser and perhaps not surprisingly considering the afternoon described above, it says I write like H.P. Lovecraft – master of horror.

Actually, I would love to write a good scary story so I wouldn’t mind if my writing really was like H.P. Lovecraft’s  but that’s just wishful thinking.  Who might your writing style be like?

I write like
H. P. Lovecraft

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!


20 thoughts on “Horror in the Afternoon”

  1. oooo…I’d be really frustrated. I hope it gets fixed soon. how can we live without the squirrel’s words of humor and wisdom?

  2. I grew up in a simple uncomplicated world and you wrote of the horror beautifully showing what we face when we go modern. It is funny when the so called server doesn’t. Where did they get their name? Oh, to go back to face to face talk and being served by someone you can see. Communication doesn’t seem that much better now; just faster.

  3. Gosh Lgs the very same happened to me about 3 weeks ago and after 3 1/2 hours on the phone and me doing all these useless things he admitted to not knowing the problem…sheesh.
    As for writing I’m supposed to be like Charles Dickens or Dan Brown….shucks how come I’m not rich and famous then – or at the very least accused of plagiarism?

  4. Oooo…I hate computer problems. Even more so, I hate poor customer service!
    I hope it all gets worked out soonly…you never know when inspiration will hit you and driving to Starbucks in the middle of the night would probably kill your moment of writing madness.
    Crossing my fingers for you,
    Sweet Cheeks

  5. The VERY SAME THING happened to me yesterday, so I ended up going to the website where I could “chat” with a live person. *sigh* I’m not sure what happened, but I think I have a date with a technician from my interenet server, on Saturday night. *heh* Internet still hooped, though…

  6. I totally relate to your problem. Unfortunately, however, I can’t fix it. I am convinced that every time I am forced to have a conversation with offshore Customer Disservice people, it shortens my life. I am always surprised at how close to the surface every curse word I know seems to be.

    Nearly everyone who takes that writing “test” is compared to Stephen King or Dan Brown. Mel Gibson’s latest obscene tirade “matched” Margaret Atwood, and when Ms. Atwood took the test, it said she wrote like Stephen King.

  7. I was going to refer you to Ian’s blog to see the comments on who do you write like, but I see hearts in SF (who also left a comment there) gave you the gist of it. I got David Foster Wallace twice and then Stephen King and then Dan Brown by dropping in random snippets from my blog. It’s obviously a very limited program because everyone knows I write like J.D. Salinger ; )
    Good luck with your internet provider!

  8. Fabulous… nothing more frustrating than internet service providers when they have decided arbitrarily to stop providing. And heavily accented help desk people… not…

    For some reason an old saying comes to mind… you should never try to teach a pig how to sing. Because it wastes your time, and it annoys the pig…

  9. Throw away that router. The page saied I’d write like a Mr. Brown, I had to google that person and would definitely prefer Lovecraft!

  10. Evalinn,
    Once again you have inspired me. Thanks and enjoy your summer.

    Thanks for the kind words but if you need wisdom and the squirrel is off the air, I hear Paul the octopus of world cup fame is quite good.

    You hit the nail on the head. Communications today is faster but not better. It’s ironic when servers don’t serve or civil servants are not civil.

  11. Janice,
    Your writing stands on its own and should not be compared with the likes of Dan Brown. I suppose Charles Dickens is quite a compliment?

    Thanks. I appreciate all crossed fingers!

    You are incorrigible, flirting with the tech support! Tsk. Tsk.

  12. Hearts,
    Wow! Sounds like Margaret Atwood was insulted TWICE, being first associated with Mel Gibson and then to Steven King. Now Steven King is a leader in his genre but he really is no Atwood.

    You ARE JD Salinger, aren’t you? That’s the only reason I have been staking out your blog! 🙂

    I think more Arthur Conan Doyle, more adventure and less of the horror (King).

  13. Secret Agent Woman,
    Sounds like you need primal scream therapy. Know any good counselors? oh, wait…. 🙂

    I had to laugh at your comment. we all know that it is a bad idea to annoy a pig!

    I remember when you wrote about your graveyard shift as a security guard. Those were very much like Lovecraft material. Spooky.

  14. Based on the last few of your posts I’d say comedy was your genre! If my computer ever breaks down I’ll be back to my fountain pen………I don’t like Stephen King’s fiction but his book on writing is really good! According to that 9/10s of a second writing analysis I write like David Foster Wallace. I can unashamedly admit to not knowing him from Adam! I think it’s just a ruse to get your business………..Ya think??

  15. Molly,
    Humor? Do you really think? Hmmm. And yes, I do think the writing analysis site doest promotest David Foster Wallace far too frequently.

    Wandering Coyote,
    Thank you for your gracious visit despite my gender folly. I usually have the Latte when I am at Starbucks.

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