A few days ago I had my hopes up. Sergio, the Telmex guy, suggested that a line in Apt. 5.1 appeared to be available. I could use it, if I had sufficient evidence that it wasn’t being used. I spoke to the doorman, who said the apartment was actually an office. Then I spoke to the office secretary, who said sorry, they were definitely using their phone lines.
I felt like I was living in 1962. (The outdated, frustrating 1962, not the glamorous Doris-Day-PIllow-Talk 1962.) Why do I have to ask these people if they’re using their phone line? Why does an office get to have three phones lines, while I have none? As soon as I got back to my apartment, I started crying. But only because I’m emotional right now.
Sergio called me several minutes later. “Well,” he said, “I think we’re going to have to make the network larger.”
“But what does that mean?” I asked. “When will they start?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. But here’s a number for my supervisor…”
I’ve already tried to call said supervisor. He never answers his phone.
UPDATE: After 20 phone calls, Crayton finally got ahold of the supervisor. They are supposedly installing our line “next Thursday or Friday.”
I definitely started crying after (and/or during) my 10th phone call with Cablevision. I have often wondered whether Mexican telecom company representatives are graded on the number of clients in which they cause emotional breakdowns.
Por eso Slim está entre los más ricos del mundo.