Well, I’m as sick as a dog and stuck at home. This is going to be short, because I can’t stay on line with the decades-old copper wires that Telikom laughingly calls a phone system.
Telikom is a Dog in a Red Dress:
Don’t ask mye why this strikes my as funny. My head feels as if it is stuffed with wet cotton (may be, for all I know), and I’m doped up on enough decongestants and antihistamines that I can’t actually tell where my fingers end and the keyboard begins. It’s like some kind of weird direct connection. Maybe that’s why I’m typing so fast. Man, I can’t ever remember typing this fast.
Anyway, back to the blood-sucking beast that we call Telikom. They keep telling me how much they are improving. Okay, they gave us some fancy little (cheap) desktop wireless phones that are supposed to connect us to the internet also. Guess what. The drivers won’t install. The local manager Mike Yandt (yes, I’m naming manes) told me on Monday morning that he would have my phone at home fixed the next morning. I asked him if he was sure. No worries was the answer. It’s now Thursday and still no phone that will stay connected. What kind of progress are they talking about . . . precisely?
I’ve given up on the normal means of trying to get things done. I’m going to start writing to anybody who will print what I send them. The Post Courier, The National, radio, tv, I don’t care. I’m going to raise as big a stink as I possibly can. Those of you who know me understand that I can stink mightily.
I’ve been trying to get a decent phone here in DCA for twenty years. Telikom can’t (read won’t) do it.
Okay, if that’s the way it’s going to be, then the gloves are off.