Unusually High Work Volume

Yesterday morning at 8:30 AM, I found it necessary to call Bell ... on my Virgin mobile phone, of course.  You see, the whole of the previous day, my phone line had been cut, which also removed my lifeline ... the Internet.

I hadn't called them because others in my building had done that and, from my window, I could see workmen in florescent yellow waistcoats digging up the sidewalk.  Not the same workmen continuously, sometimes it was municipal workers, then Bell telephone technicians, each shift continuing throughout the day.  They were still there when I went to bed.

Thus, the 8:30 AM call the next day.  It is necessary, I feel, to explain my frustration.  It only took a few minutes for a computer to answer in English that if I wanted service in English that I press #1.  It being 8:30 AM, it was not a surprise to hear that "Due to an unusually high volume of calls ...." there was going to be a wait time of approximately 5 minutes.  Of course, this is the moment when one forgets how to switch to speakerphone, but it is reassuring to know that "Your call is very important to us." Then, as the soothing music fails to sooth, a cheerful computer voice interrupts to say "Did you know that Bell Internet is always available to help." Excu-u-use me, but do you know why I'm trying to call you?  and 10 minutes later there is a click and, annoyingly, the music stops ... well, it is so rare to have nice music that sounds like music ... and a human voice (I shall give him the benefit of my doubt) can be heard as if he is using an old amateur radio fitted with a bent coat hanger in a remote Bangladeshi village.  Nevertheless, it was possible to verify my date of birth, favourite colour, and inside leg measurement, and receive a promise to rectify the problem as soon as possible, and be asked to "Have a nice day".

At 11:55 AM, the phone rings again, and the first caller's sister, who obviously has a Canadian residence visa because of the clear line that indicates that there were no workmen in yellow waistcoats digging up the sidewalk outside her call centre (Is there more than one Bell company?) which proves that her brother had not told her anything about my problem, and was quite surprised to hear about the various shifts of workmen outside my window.  Anyway, she seemed quite relieved to know that I liked blue.

At 3:00 PM, the phone rings again, and someone who sounded fairly proficient, tells me that his workers were digging up the cable as we speak and "They will have the task finished before 6:00 PM."  I go to the window and there is nobody in sight.  I decided that they were digging up a cable near to Tim Horton's.

6:00 PM passes, and so does 7:00 PM.  At 7:20 PM, I notice lights outside (The sun sets at 6:15 PM) two workmen had erected a tent over a hole in the ground which glowed in the dark as if they fishing for their supper.

Looking out of the window just before going to bed, I noticed that the light was out.  Checking the landline phone produced the beautiful sound of a dial tone.

Thus, this morning, even though there has been no call from Bell, I have my loving Internet back.  Oh, I almost forgot, my first e-mail was from the Bell call centre asking for feedback ... that will take some time to answer as I have an unusually high volume of work at the moment.

Have a nice day.

eMail

At one time there was only Canada Post.  Then, we discovered the Internet.  As a result, we joined the eMail revolution.  Firstly, for a short while, I had an AOL account, then, I organized myself with a Hotmail account for general use, a Yahoo! account for personal use, and Google for backup (although Google gains more importance as this Blog and our future Website are published).  I believe that there are other addresses in my files somewhere, e.g., Bell.net.  Other addresses lurk in the background files of Apple and, I am sure, many others.

Recently (I mean during the past year or so), as a result of registering for various media sites, I am plagued, daily (Yes, daily), by unsolicited eMail from organizations such as LinkedIn and Facebook (I'm so sorry.  I promise never to mention those two names again), and when I receive messages saying, “You have 4 new friends waiting to hear from you.”  or, for example, “Do you know John Intram?” I look for the Delete button, actually, I don’t look ... I know where it is ... blindfolded.

By the way, I am sure that both of the organizations named above have my eMail address set within many associated files because I have forgotten how many times I’ve attempted to ’Unsubscribe’.

Dear people, I think that I know who my friends are, and I suspect that they do not really want me to be their 3,333rd friend (Please agree with me).  Therefore, I want you to know that I am not, intentionally, sending anything other than this wonderful Blog.