Showing posts with label Time Warner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Time Warner. Show all posts

Sunday, March 16, 2014

I told you it was a conspiracy!

I reported yesterday that my break-up with Time Warner's cable service had been relatively painless. I watched the first episode of House of Cards and the first part of The Sapphires last night on Netflix, so the methadone worked. Everything was groovy.

Until my son Drake's friend K tried to sign on to my wireless network and couldn't find it. My computers are hooked up to my Ethernet, and I hadn't noticed my phone was using 3-G instead of wireless. I unplugged the modem to reset it. Nothing, although the modem was still sending a signal to my Ethernet. We decided to go out for a while; I figured it would resolve while we were gone, because even though hope is stupid I will carry some dusty scraps of it around for old time's sake.

We still couldn't find the wireless network later when we tried to watch Orange Is the New Black on Netflix, and resetting the modem didn't work the second time. Fuck me. I had to call Time Warner on a Sunday afternoon. I had already spend 20 minutes on the phone with a really slow guy at IKEA because a bookcase came with the wrong hardware. Now I had to run the TWC button-pressing marathon again.

(Freedigitalphotos.net)

"I just know this is happening because I cancelled my cable. They're spanking me for refusing to keep it," I said.

"That's ridiculous," Drake said. "They wouldn't do that." K shook his head in agreement.

"It might be unlikely, but I would hardly call it ridiculous," I said. "You have to admit the timing is funny."

"You probably bumped something on the modem when you unplugged the DVR."

"No, I didn't. I've checked everything on the modem. Besides why would I get a signal, but no wireless? The modem is fine. They're fucking with me, you guys. I predicted this might happen. They don't want me to watch Netflix. They're trying to lure me back."

Drake shook his head and lay down on the big chair to take a nap.

I finally got through to a real person with only minor carpel tunnel in my index finger. She ascertained that my modem was getting a signal. I could have told her that. I wouldn't have been talking to her on my land line if it hadn't been. She bumped me up to technical support.

The woman in tier one technical support checked my modem, and she too gave the thumbs up to my signal, but couldn't find my wireless. Now I was either 2 for 2 or 0 for 2 depending on whether you give importance to the signal or to the wireless. She bumped me all too easily all the way up to tier three  ..... whose name was Tad.

Tad pinged my modem and told me I had a signal. I agreed, and told him my Ethernet would not work if it didn't. He told me I didn't have wireless though. I agreed. He asked me to hold on while he ran some tests ..... Then he said he had to restart my modem. "You'll lose me if you ...," I said, but he was already gone.

He called back. Ooops. He hadn't realized I was on my land line, even though he asked me what number I was calling from as soon as we got on the line. Whatever he did though, it worked. I found my wireless on my phone and signed in ..... for about 5 seconds.

"Your wireless is gone again," he said. Wash, rinse, repeat.

He ran more tests .... They didn't work. Or they worked, but didn't stick.

He did a factory reset .... It didn't work.

"I cancelled my cable TV yesterday," I said. "Do you think that has anything to do with it?"

"No, I can see you made an adjustment to your account, but that wouldn't cause this," he replied. My instincts told me he was lying.

I put my hand over the phone and said to K, "I think he's in on it too." K just rolled his eyes. He's a man of few words. "I'm not crazy," I said. He didn't look at me.

In the meantime, Tad ran still more tests .... or claimed he did. Sometimes my network would pop up for a few seconds, but it always disappeared again. Suspicious.

Every time he shut down my modem and then called me back he said, "Hello, Ms Reticula. This is Tad with Time Warner Cable's technical support team." Every single time he called me back.

Which turned out to be about a dozen times over the course of 3 hours half an hour. Everything he tried failed. I started to hear frustration in his voice.

Finally he did something and my phone picked up my wireless signal. And kept it. K's laptop found it, and after a few minutes so did mine. The issue seemed to be fixed.

"What was wrong?" I asked Tad.

"Somehow when your cable was turned off, a code was entered that turned off your wireless too."

"So you're saying there was a conspiracy?" I said, checking to make sure K was paying attention. He wasn't.

"Oh, it totally was a conspiracy," he said.

I knew it!

"Really? So I was right? Somebody did it on purpose?" I love being right. I put my hand over the phone and hissed at K, "See? I told you they did it on purpose!"

"Yes, it was me," Tad confided. "I sent secret agents to your house and had them mess up just the wireless in your modem. I did it just so you would have to call and talk to me ..."

"Oh! Really?" Was Tad flirting with me?

".... because I was bored," he finished.

"Well, it worked," I said. Nope, not flirting. Bored. "I've talked to you quite a bit."

 "And I'm not bored any more," he said. "Is there anything else I can do for you today? Anything else at all?"

"No, you've done everything I needed you to do. Thank you." I wondered what someone named Tad would look like. I decided to go with Matthew McConaughey in Magic Mike.  When it doesn't matter, might as well go big and sexy.

Tad encouraged me to answer an automated questionnaire about his service, and I promised to give him all A's. We hung up a final time.

And now, unless secret Time Warner Cable agents have sneaked back into my house and messed with my modem again, my ordeal with TWC is over .... until the next time.

Maybe now I can focus on writing about vaginas.


Thursday, March 13, 2014

Unpacking my second-favorite waste of time

Now that I've embraced my word for the year, unpacking, I feel motivated to unpack as much as I can in the 9 1/2 months I have left. Tomorrow I'm unpacking something that distracts me from the other really important unpacking I need to accomplish. Something that whispers "Come to me," and I do far too often. Something that is like a drug that lies and tells me this is what I want to waste my hours doing. Something I've been paying for since .... well, since I didn't pay for it the 3 1/2 years I lived in Georgia back in the 80's, because somehow we managed to steal it. (Doesn't matter though. I've more than paid for those years since, both in time and money.) Something that I do when I could be doing so many other, better things, like writing and playing music and having small intimate dinner parties and hanging some fucking art on my walls and yoga. Something I've been threatening to get rid of for weeks ... maybe months .... now, but I haven't because it's like chocolate heroin, and I keep getting my fix one day at a time, even though every day I tell myself I'm done.

Tomorrow I'm going to call Time Warner and tell them to shut off my cable. And then I'm going to take my beloved DVR, which allows me to skip every fucking commercial, even the Super Bowl commercials, to their office -- wherever that may be -- and leave it there forever.

That's right. I'm giving up my cable.

*sob*

It wasn't until I decided to get rid of it and save over $100 per month that I realized just how addicted I am. I planned to do it when I moved in December. I planned to take with me the internet and phone, but not the cable.

I couldn't do it. I don't even remember why. Maybe I had movies on my DVR I still wanted to watch. Maybe I was mid-season into one of the too many shows my DVR is set to automatically record. I don't even fucking remember, but it must have been important if I was willing to spend over $100 every month to watch.

And I mean really fucking important, because I still haven't finished painting my kitchen chairs, hung my art, scrubbed down the woodwork, put together the bookcase for my music, painted my downstairs bathroom door purple, or started the poetry wall I've been promising myself for years -- just as soon as I own my own house. I'm not even fucking dating, although I watch plenty of other people act out doing it on the little screen. I need to do these things .....

.... And that's the short list. If I listed everything I could be doing instead of watching the stupid tube, I'd be here all night.

It's an addiction -- one I need to break tame. And by tame, I mean .... I'm kind of embarrassed to admit it ... but I'm going to give up my hundreds of cable channels and reduce
Does this look like a drug
deliver system?
my possibilities to Netflix, maybe Hulu Plus, and whatever I can get locally by antennae, although that would mean I'd have to watch live TV with all those fucking commercials, and I don't think I can go back to the 70's and do that. I hate the fucking commercials.


From a financial standpoint, it's a win. I'd pay around $15 for both Netflix and Hulu Plus. (I've already got both, but I piggyback off someone else's Hulu, which I traded for my HBO Go password. Now that I'm giving up my HBO, I'm not going to continue using his Hulu account, even though he said I could. It wouldn't be fair.)

So it's not like I'm going cold turkey. I've still got 3 seasons of Sons of Anarchy to watch, and I've only seen 3 episodes of Orange Is the New Black. And .... movies.

I'm going from heroin to methadone.

I hope it works. I hope I start going to bed at a decent time and getting up before 9:00, not only because I'm not watching Shameless on Showtime or True Detective on HBO, but also because I haven't put off grading or writing here until after midnight because I've spent the best hours of the night trapped in the crystal clear fantasy land on my flat-screen TV.

So tomorrow I'm calling Time Warner and telling them I'm on the wagon. And no matter what they offer me, I'm not taking it. My cable days are over. Finished. I'll watch cable in the nursing home with all the other old ladies who have outlived the men our age, but not until the time comes.

I'm not sure simply getting rid of the DVR will be enough, but that's where I'm going to start. If I simply replace Time Warner with Netflix and Hulu without changing my behavior, then I'll have to rethink those too.

I'm saying it here so I have to do it: I'm unpacking Time Warner cable tomorrow. No more broken promises to my better self.

Facebook, check your back, asshole, because I'm looking at you, you miserable life-sucking whore. Once my mind clears and the cable drug is out of my system, I'm going to unpack some other wastes of time, and you're an even bigger problem than cable. (But damn it, you're such a cheap date.)

Note: If I'm not here writing tomorrow night, I failed. Don't even try to save my weak ass. I've got hours of episodes of Ink Master on my DVR, and I'm not afraid to sink into the couch and watch them.