Corporate Generosity

I wrote this yesterday, when I had no internet service for about 14 hours:

I can’t tell you the name of the cadaverously leering psychopath who is the CEO of Spectrum, the corporation that provides spotty internet service to much of the country.  Tom something, let’s call him Tom Fuckface.  This genital canker made $93 million a year or two ago. I can’t tell you his last name at the moment because I have no internet service and I don’t feel like using my phone.  It is no problem having no internet service for four hours so far today.  I will be reimbursed $1.61 for today, since I’ve had no internet now for four hours or more.

I had a 25 minute chat with a lovely woman named Maria. I was vehement but civil as I described Tom Fuckface’s corporate style: do not negotiate with unionized workers, raise rates liberally, provide miniscule refunds to customers you provide no service to.  I assume there is some fine under the Labor Relations Act for refusing to negotiate with unionized workers, but any fine is certainly not coming out of Tom’s pocket.  Tom’s company also enjoys a virtual monopoly in many areas of New York City, including the neighborhood where I live. It’s a free country, don’t want internet service? Tell Spectrum to fuck off.

Maria told me seven of the other 200 customers on my hub have no internet service today. Statistically insignificant, for reporting purposes. Not a real problem. She saw that I have had very spotty internet service for the last few days. She refunded me four times $1.61. which was very kind of her.  I made her an ally and she reacted with friendliness.  My patient forbearance from cursing won me $6.44.  I’m so happy I could shit.  Though I’ll be shitting without internet service.  C’est la guerre, I suppose.


It is six hours later, still with no internet signal. The seven who had no service in my immediate area earlier today is now up to forty, still only 11% and below the 15% necessary to have the psychopath ISP deem it any kind of outage they need to investigate.  A scab technician will arrive here between 5:00 and 6:00 pm tomorrow to check the line coming into my building, into my apartment and my modem. Hopefully the motherfuckers will accidentally restore my internet service by then.


Four hours later the internet winked back on, as slyly as it had winked off.

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