This was not going to be an ordinary Wednesday in February. I could sense it.
Well, to be more accurate, Weather.com could sense it. The Web site told me that it was going to be 58 degrees and sunny. That only meant one thing - that I'd be able to go outside.
If you've been reading Jerks of the Week, you know that I abide by many rules. One of these rules is not to go outside when it's colder than 55 degrees, barring some sort of emergency. You know, like finding out that a friend is in the hospital, or running out of Oreos and/or Cheetos. Fortunately, I have a garage, and Bottom Dollar Food is right around the corner from my house, so I don't have to be outside in freezing weather for very long. Thank God.
With that in mind, you can imagine my excitement. A 58-degree, sunny day meant that I could finally come out of hibernation and leave my house. I'd be able to do all sorts of exciting things like take a stroll to the mailbox, walk to Bottom Dollar Food to buy Oreos and/or Cheetos, and... umm... other things.
Unfortunately, this day turned into hell rather quickly. It just kept getting worse and worse, so I thought it might be fun to keep a live blog, chronicling everything that happened to me. I did this for my college roommate's wedding a couple of years ago, and I think it worked out pretty well. So, why not try it again?
12:09: My day was already off to a bad start. I went to bed a little bit earlier than usual the night before so I could wake up extra early, like 11:30, or maybe even 11:15. I wanted to enjoy as much sunlight as possible because my skin was turning a sickly green from being in my house for 3-4 consecutive months.
My plan failed, however. I looked at the clock, and it read 12:09. I couldn't get out of bed right away. I was tired, so I just remained there until 12:25. I finally got up, brushed my teeth and went to my computer. As it was starting up, I ran around my house and opened up all the windows. Ahhh... fresh air - I forgot what you smelled like.
12:59: My plan was to do my usual morning work and then go outside. That wouldn't work out so well. My Internet went down at 12:59 - I know this because I have a G-chat conversation timestamped.
This didn't completely catch me unawares, since Comcast tends to crap out at the most inconvenient times. Usually doing something stupid can bring the Internet back. For instance, I disconnected and then reconnected to my network. Didn't work. I re-started the modem. Didn't work. I unplugged and re-plugged the router. Didn't work. I restarted my computer. Didn't work. I prayed to the Half-Norwegian, Half-Korean deity Emperor Zarlox. Didn't work. I called Comcast. Didn't work.
The Comcast call is worth noting because the operator told me that there was a service interruption, so I was basically screwed. This, of course, was after I had to wait a couple of minutes and convince the machine that I didn't have to press 9 for Espanol. At least that's what I think the voice told me. Here's what it said:
"Por taco taco burrito nacho taco bell taco por favor taco nueve."
I'd assume that "neuve" means nine, but who cares? Seriously, why is it necessary for there to be a Spanish option for everything? If there's a Spanish option, why aren't there other language options? Why don't they allow you to press 8 for Russian? There are TONS of Russians living in the Philadelphia area, so why are they expected to know English, while Mexican people can press neuve for tacos, burritos and nachos?
I think it should be all or nothing. Just English, or every language. Russian people should be able to call Comcast in their native tongue if Mexican people can. What about all the people from Britain who can only speak British? Shouldn't they be able to communicate with someone who has a British accent? And how about all the Asians? Why doesn't Comcast provide a customer service rep who is fluent in the Asian language?
If you're an artsy-fartsy, new-age hippie, you may remark, "Spanish is the only other option because it's the second language, you insensitive jerk." First of all, are you saying that there are only two races that matter? Way to be racist. And second, I read in a book that there are like 500 billion people living in the city of China - more than anywhere else in the entire world. That obviously means that the Asian language is the second language on this planet. Why can't the 500 billion people in China press 7 for Asian?
1:13: I figured I'd wait out the service interruption and have some breakfast. I went downstairs and made myself a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles with some orange juice on the side.
I'm not expert in the kitchen by any means - I just opened my oven for the first time last Saturday - but I make an awesome bowl of Cocoa Pebbles. I don't mean to brag, but no one does it quite like me. The orange juice on the side is a nice touch. If you're wondering, I wouldn't recommend putting the orange juice in the cereal bowl; pour it into a separate glass. That's just a nice culinary tip I'd like to offer.
1:16: NOM NOM NOM NOM!!!
1:18: Still no Internet.
1:20: NOM NOM NOM NOM!!!
1:25: Still no Internet.
1:26: NOM NOM NOM NOM!!! (I have now moved on to eating cookies.)
1:30: Still no Internet.
1:35: This was getting ridiculous. Comcast was not going to ruin my day. I got dressed and walked to my mailbox. I had nothing but junk mail in there, but I was still happy to be outside. I then went back to my house, grabbed my swimming gear for the gym and put my business credit card in my pocket.
I had enough of this nonsense. There's a Staples on the way to my gym, so I thought it'd be smart to stop in, buy some Internet and have a connection option if Comcast still wasn't working when I came back home. Big mistake.
2:02: I looked at the clock when I got out of my car in the Staples parking lot, so I remember the exact time.
I walked into Staples and wandered around aimlessly. I didn't see any workers in the store, so I didn't know which aisle had Internet.
2:08: I finally found the Internet. There were two gizmos on the shelves that looked like they might be able to give me Internet in my house without a working Internet service provider. Unfortunately, I didn't have anyone to ask.
2:13: I stood there for five minutes until some tall, skinny, blond worker walked by. He asked me if I needed help, so I shoved the two contraptions in his face.
Me: Can I use any of these things to log onto the Internet if my Comcast is down?
Blond Dude: Hmm... nah... I don't think so...
Me: So, what am I supposed to do? How can I get Internet if Comcast isn't working?
Blond Dude: You'll have to call another Internet service provider, I guess.
Ugh. I was just about to give up when I tried one last question...
Me: But... but... what about all of those times when people go into coffee shops and they can use Internet?
Blond Dude: Oh... hmm... a hot spot could work...
I always knew you could buy Internet, but never a hot spot. I'd always heard the term before, but never knew what it was. Now, I was about to own a hot spot. Muhahahaha!!!
Blond Dude: You can get this Samsung Verizon hot spot, but there's a 2-year contract.
Me: How much is it per month?
Blond Dude: It's $50 per month.
Me: That's fine. I'll take it.
Blond Dude: OK, let me get Morgan, our wireless expert.
Morgan, eh? Sounds sexy. I'd have to ask this Morgan wireless expert chick to show me a hot spot or two, giggity, giggity.
2:25: Morgan wasn't showing me any sort of hot spot. Morgan wasn't even there. Blond Dude asked for Morgan to come to the wireless section on the loud speaker, but she never showed. Another worker informed Blond Dude that Morgan was on lunch break. Great. Morgan's fat. Now, I don't want to see any of her hot spots.
2:30: Still no Morgan. What was she eating, an entire cow carcass?
2:35: Morgan finally came back from lunch. To my utter disappointment, Morgan was a guy. A chubby guy. And he was going to show me his hot spots. NOOOOO(not that there's anything wrong with that)OOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
2:45: Morgan explained all the hot spot stuff to me and took my information. This was easy. I'd be at the gym in no time!
3:00: Still at Staples. Still working with Morgan. I paid and everything, but Morgan couldn't get my hot spot to work.
3:05: Speaking of getting my hot spot to work, this chick who was working the register would constantly walk over and put print cartridges on the shelves. I couldn't tell if she was hot or not. She was dark-skinned, but not black, so she must have been Mexican. She looked great waist down, average in the face, but terrible in the middle because she was flat. Nevertheless, I wanted to have a sexy time with her.
This ties into my Only Bangable Chick Theory. It states that all heterosexual males will want to bang a chick if she's the only one in the vicinity. It doesn't matter if she weighs 300 pounds, happens to be older than 60 or has boils on her face. Only Bangable Chick Theory applies.
3:20: Still at Staples. Morgan was now giving me goofy looks. Maybe he was keeping me on purpose. If he's heterosexually challenged, I wonder if he abides by the Only Bangable Dude Theory. Not that it would apply in this case - Blond Dude is still lurking around.
3:25: It's official - Morgan had no idea what he's doing.
Morgan: This program won't let me enter in the ID number.
Morgan: I'm going to have to call the area manager. I'm sorry, I never sold one of these before.
Ugh. And here I thought this was a wireless expert.
3:35: The area manager told Morgan that he had to input a new phone number for the hot spot. "Almost done," Morgan assured me. Yeah, right.
3:40: Morgan once again had a dumbfounded grin on his face.
Morgan: It keeps saying undefined error when I type in the number.
Me: That's not good.
Morgan: I'm sorry, I'm going to have to call the regional manager again.
Me: UGH!!! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST STAY ON THE LINE WITH HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE!?!?!? ARGH!!!!
That's something I would have said if I wasn't so exhausted. But I had been standing there with Morgan for more than an hour at this point. I just wanted to go home, and eat Oreos and Cheetos. Is that too much to ask?
3:50: Morgan finally got in touch with the area manager again. This time, the area manager couldn't figure out what the problem was. He transferred Morgan to someone else, who then tried to transfer Morgan back to the area manager. "I was just talking to him!" a frustrated Morgan exclaimed.
Meanwhile, I noticed a pair of scissors on the desk. I could just reach over, grab them and end my misery...
3:55: Morgan was still on the phone. I tried looking for Mexican Ink Cartridge Chick, but she was nowhere to be seen. There were no other women to look at either. Crap, I was going to have to bang Morgan. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
4:00: Morgan was still on the phone. I was so bored at this point that I began counting the different ink cartridge colors on the shelf. There were 14 magentas, 11 blues, 10 blacks and seven yellows. I wondered why there were so few yellows compared to magentas. Staples clearly has an agenda against yellow ink, but why?
4:05: Morgan was still on the phone. It was at this point that I decided I wasn't going to the gym. I had to run straight home, spend a little bit of time outside, and then write this Jerks of the Week entry.
4:10: Morgan was still on the phone. He was transferred over so many times that I was convinced that he was speaking to the CEO of Verizon at this point.
Meanwhile, some dork came into Staples with his mom. His hair was combed over, and he was wearing Harry Potter-style clothes. Good luck trying to bang Mexican Ink Cartridge Chick with that outfit, pal.
4:15: PROBLEM SOLVED! Morgan was attempting to input a canceled number. That's why it wouldn't let it go through.
4:20: Morgan gave me some papers to sign. I was willing to put my name to anything at this point - even if it was my death certificate. I was in Staples for two hours. TWO fracking hours!
4:23: I finally left Staples. I drove straight home like I said I would.
4:28: I was driving down the street, about to pull into my driveway. I noticed that a little Asian girl was walking her dog on the sidewalk, but they were a good 20 yards away from the driveway. I figured I'd be able to pull into the driveway in time without having to wait 15 seconds for her to walk by.
4:29: The car belonging to my gypsy neighbors was blocking my view. I tried pulling in, but I noticed that the Asian girl and her dog were running past my driveway at the very last second. I don't know why the hell she decided to start running at the very moment, but I nearly ran her over. I would have killed her and her dog, and I would have been forced to spend two years in prison like Philadelphia's quarterback. Fortunately, there would be an NFL team willing to pay me hundreds of millions of dollars afterward, so it would all turn out OK.
4:30: I thought that getting some stamps from Bottom Dollar would be a good idea. I needed stamps, and walking over would allow me to spend some time outside in the nice weather. Perhaps Somewhat Cute Cashier would even be there.
4:33: Somewhat Cute Cashier wasn't there. There was an old lady working the register, and this girl of about 16 was watching her, presumably learning the ropes on her first day. I'd comment on how the girl looked, but I don't want there to be any sort of Jerry Sandusky situation. I doubt the Eagles will offer Sandusky a big contract once he's released from prison. He'll probably get a small deal from them. I'm not going to settle for a seven-figure deal. I want nine figures at the very least.
4:37: I walked back to my house. What a horribly exhausting day. I couldn't wait to eat some Or...
My thoughts were interrupted at that point. The aforementioned Asian girl was sprinting down the street and crying. She yelled something I couldn't understand, but apparently her dog was running away.
I would have tried to help, but I couldn't communicate to her because I didn't speak the Asian language. And there was no option to press 7.