Cable Monopoly
by Betty Mermelstein
A new house!
Tons to replace and set up. The big one was to
arrive today: TV and Wi-Fi setup. So what if it
took three visits to install the faucets for the
kitchen sink? Big deal if eighty percent of the
new dining room furniture was so rustic in style
it had to be returned. This would be the one
worth waiting for.
The serviceman
showed up at the door with the good news that the
only cable company available in my community was
ready to help me communicate with the world.
He set to work
in the office, huddled over wires by the desk
like a raccoon sorting through old spaghetti.
Within ten minutes, he was ready to give me
instructions.
"Get on
your computer," he commanded. I was only too
willing to comply.
"I need
at least eight characters for your password for
the Wi-Fi," he said.
What to choose?
My mother's maiden name? The name of the boy in
first grade who gave me my first kiss? That guy
who pretended to be a real estate agent and
cleaned us out of our jewelry at the first house
showing?
"I'll
give you a password," the serviceman stated,
taking my computer from me. "Ihaveanewhouse17,
there!" he typed.
"Well, I
guess that will work."
Another ten
minutes went by while he checked the outside box.
"Ok,"
he said, returning to begin rapid firing the
remote that pointed at the TV.
"This is
your power button, this is the guide where you
select your station, here's your record button,
and you can choose one episode like this or the
whole series like this, then you go back to live
TV."
My mind was a
blender of instructions, wondering when I should
throw in the almond milk to smooth it all out.
"Ok, that's
it for me," he announced heading for the
door.
Well, at least
it was all done. I went to my computer, eager to
send my first email from my new house. No
Connection greeted me instead. I ran to the
remote and turned on a news channel. This HDMI
Not Supported was my second greeting.
I wasn't in
this much disbelief since the neighbor two doors
down from my old house came around on Halloween
in a nude leotard.
My phone still
worked. I dialed the number for the cable company
that now seemed to be holding me hostage. What a
surprise that the next available agent was only
thirty minutes away.
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