Reasoned Rebellion

First of all, I need to apologize for yet another extended period of silence. I have a good excuse, like I always do. This time, I am very happy to announce that I recently became a homeowner (or a "HO" as the Puttar affectionately calls me). Luckily, the experience has given me much to write and think about:

1. The feeling of being Wells Fargo's bitch for the next 30 years.
2. Endless home repairs and renovations.
3. Dealing with surprisingly complacent neighbors who no doubt will eventually prove to have stepped right out of Wisteria Lane.

As a consequence of these new topics of discussion, I am starting a new series (and blog tag), appropriately titled "HO Problems."

The first of this series will focus on a project that most homeowners would find seemingly simple: getting cable TV service. Now being a good little Sindhi boy, while I was sitting in my old apartment, I called Cablevision well in advance to schedule my new service install. They gave me an install date about a month in the future. When the consultant finally arrived that fateful day, he informs me that my house is not "cable ready" and that a new line is required and needs to be run from the street to my unit. He tells me a crew of 5-6 people is needed to perform this service and Cablevision very promptly scheduled this the following week.

Again, being the good little Sindhi boy I am, I patiently waited at home all day during their time window (7am-8pm) for two separate installation teams (external first, then internal later in the day). When the first crew arrived, I was taken a bit by surprise since I didn't hear the bell. I ran to the door when I noticed the trucks and as soon as I opened it in came several large Negro men. I was distracted and unable to account for how many there were. I saw a few go upstairs, a few go downstairs, and the last one (who was tall and skinny) remained with me on the main floor. At that point, I excused myself and retrieved my wallet to place it in my back pocket (securing the most valuable thing in the house.)

As I proceeded to go upstairs to check on the workers, the tall, skinny one demanded my attention with very peculiar questions that I was convinced were designed to distract me "where is the broiler?" "can you show me your garage?"

I quickly guessed that the people servicing my cable needs weren't the most educated people in the world when I heard the foul language they used to converse with each other. A few moments later, a plump round one was attempting to solicit my attention in the garage. "Can you move your car?" I agreed. While I was getting in, he smiles at me and says "You have a lot of money don't you?"

That question immediately sent my heart racing. "Not anymore. I spent all my money buying this house," I retorted and drove off. I did not return to the invaded house until my good friend and neighbor, Ankit (henceforth to be known as "A-Man"), accompanied me. With both of us now in the house, the workers completed their tasks and left my home peacefully. I guess I convinced them I was broke. Indeed, I only had $2 in the wallet in my back pocket :-).

Later, the second team of 2 gentleman ("internal" cable) arrived to actually give me my TV service. The external line was left by the previous team in the garage and now needed to be routed to all the TVs in the house. It was explained to me that a small hole would need to be drilled in the hardwood floor to bring the wire up from the garage. After making the hole in beautiful wood, the technician requests permission to make a second hole because the first one wasn't in the correct position.

It was then that I lost my temper. "Why didn't you measure before drilling?" "If I allow you to drill a second hole, what guarantee do I have that the second one will be correct and you won't proceed to drill 5, 6 maybe 7 holes in my floor before you get it right??"

He fired back at me. I don't remember what he said but it was clear this one was dumber than the first lot that came earlier in the day. I demanded he cancel my order and told him this hassle was not worth it and I was switching to Verizon. He ran out of my house without giving me his name or my service call order -- everything I needed to identify him and force Cablevision to repair the damage he caused. I ran outside and demanded he give it to me when he yelled back "I don't have to give you my name or order number because you have no order -- you just canceled it."

Fortunately, this story has a happy ending. I noted down his license plate and eventually strong armed Cablevision to correct the problem.

Oh the joys of owning a home. The American nightmare.

About this blog's headline image: An artist's 3D rendering of an ideal urban apartment.

Labels: HO problems