Dear Consort, #3

Dear Consort,

It sure was fun chatting with you over email and haloscan the other day. Sounds like you are having quite the adventure in Nicaragua!

But, dude, it’s time to come home.

See, yesterday morning, the router started acting up. You remember how it’s been fritzing out on us the past 6 weeks or so, mainly in the evenings (so that it wasn’t getting in the way of correspondence and Internet connection during work hours), and it would flush itself in a few minutes (so that we could technically still get connection during the evening, we’d just have to wait a bit longer between pages). Yesterday, it happened in the morning, so I called the tech director and left a message.

That afternoon, he hadn’t called back, and it was getting worse. Trixie was disconnected twice while she was playing WoW, and I wasn’t able to finish the work I wanted to get sent out.

So, I called back, and got the voicemail again. And I did what I knew I would. Yep, I threw diplomacy out the window and said something like, “I don’t know why we even go through you people, we should just get the DSL direct through Qwest because at least they have phone banks and ANSWER CUSTOMER TROUBLE CALLS!”

Whoo-boy.

He called back this morning, and after saying “This is Txxx Syyy,” he was silent on the line. No apology coming from this guy. That’s fine, I wasn’t going to apologize, either! He gave me his cellphone number and told me to call the next time it happened. I replied that I didn’t think it was a very good idea, because it often happens in the evening. “You can call me in the evening,” he said. Ho-kay.

Two hours later, I got disconnected (it’s still this morning). I call him, and it sounds like he’s at home watching kids. He tells me someone else will call me right back.

They did.

You know who it was?

Chatty guy, your friend.

Oh my lorrrrrrrrd. It took about 20 minutes to finalize that he’d bring over a replacement router later in the afternoon. I told him I’d be gone from 3 to 4. He then called at 2:45 just to “touch base” and remind me that he knew I’d be out from 3 to 4 and that he’d call before he came later.

Well, it’s 8:45 and he hasn’t called. Which is fine. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if the router transfer didn’t happen until Monday...

...When you’ll be home, and be Mr. Diplomat,* like you always are.

Love,
Imperatrix, your Thank-god-you-aren't-running-for-office-because-me-and-my-big-mouth-would-ruin-any-chance-you-had-of-being-elected spouse

*This is also why I haven’t called the neighborhood police liason to discuss certain “happenings” next door, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the reins on my rudestraight talk, and that would just end up making things worse. You’ll be having to call her, too, when you get back. Alright?