Here's what happened. I came back from delivering Barsy's Almonds to find the cabinet Qwest keeps in the alley behind my house open to the weather. It was drizzling and the wind was blowing. I could see a bunch of electrical gadgets. The doors wouldn't close, and it looked like it would take a wrench to close them. I had probably already trespassed by trying to close them. I looked up Qwest's repair number, and called. The robot on the other end didn't want to give me the option I wanted: "Hey, your cabinet's open." "Okay. Thanks. We'll get on it." "Cool. Goodbye." If there was a way of getting to talk to a human, I missed it. I called sales, figuring that they'd have somebody manning the phones there. The first operator forwarded me to somebody else who kept putting me on hold so I could listen to advertising, and who couldn't find my address -- which is on the cabinet itself. I didn't suggest she get in touch with billing. All told, I spent over half an hour on the phone, trying to do a "person" I share economic space with a favor.
When I hear people complain about government's intruding into their lives, I want to tell them to bend over. Qwetht ith coming.
