Opinion: Cable blues

“There’s someone at the door,” said my wife, which is never a statement of fact, but rather a request for me to go see who it is. Generally, it’s best that Mary Ellen not answer the door. She’s a softy and can’t say no to solicitors, which is why we have 20 years’ worth of garbage bags.

The young man at the door was selling a new cable service. As a creature of habit, I am not inclined to change anything unless something much better comes along … and I say that proudly after 35 years of marriage.

The time was 7:03 p.m. Keegan began by trying to convince me of the benefits of a faster Internet connection.

“How long does it take you to get on the Internet now?” he asked.

“Well, I start upstairs with a beverage, then, with this pesky knee of mine, it takes me a while to get down the stairs to the computer. By the time I find my glasses, we’re looking at eight to 10 minutes.”

Keegan was on his cell phone, on hold during our entire conversation, trying to get approval from his supervisor for the discount package he presented to me. He explained the advantages of this offer, which meant instead of 240 shows available every hour, we could get 270 – giving us an extra 30 we also had no time to watch. The deal-maker was that he was going to provide us with four DVRs, the devices that record TV programs for future viewing. We only have three TVs, so we’ll just stick one next to the toilet in the half bath. I bet it will creep out our guests at our next dinner party.

It was now 10:05 p.m. The phone rang and it was yet another cable service wanting to talk about their new promotion, which sounded pretty good, too. “Let me think about that,” I said. “Can I put you on hold for a moment?”


Dick Wolfsie is an author, columnist, and speaker. Contact him at Wolfsie@aol.com.

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