Like a bone in a stew...

I learned of the "revised" coaxial wiring in the house in time to avoid a visit from a Comcast technician, but only got around to changing it back to the original configuration yesterday morning. Once that was done, I finally hooked up the cable television box and fired it up.

Predictably, it informed me that it was not authorized for operation, and that I should call Comcast. I did, and encountered the by-now fully expected automated response system. And it occurred to me, as I interacted with a robot, that at least here I was on relatively safe ground, as I was not interacting with a human Comcast employee.

At just about the time that thought crossed my mind, the system duly informed me that I had no equipment to activate. I asked for a representative. Eventually, I was connected to a human, who informed me that my account had been closed.

Upon close questioning, it turns out that the combination of my phone number and address point at two accounts: one that was active a couple of years ago and which was, in truth, closed, and the new one that I set up at the beginning of the month.

What I found interesting is an emerging pattern, on the part of Comcast employees, to ask for information they really ought to (and as it turns out, typically do) have in the first place. The first instance occurred during signup, when I was asked for my Social Security number over the phone during the "interview" phase of signup, when I had already typed the number in during the previous Web session. At the time, the Comcast rep I was dealing with simply stated that he did not have access to the information entered via the Web interface (although in retrospect, I cannot imagine why he also didn't ask for the other information entered during that session).

Then there was that phone call this past Friday, during which I was asked for my email account. "I provided one during signup," I said to the young woman who had called. "Isn't it available to you?" She then read me my email address, to which I responded "That's it!" and we said our goodbyes.

Then yesterday, after establishing that "my account" had been closed, the rep I spoke with asked me for my new account number. I explained that I'd have to boot my computer and look for it, and that the process would take several minutes. No worries, came the reply after a few seconds, the rep had found my new account number, and we proceeded to activate my box from there.

* * *My cumulative interactions with Comcast remind me of a short story I read as a young man, in which the narrative is presented as a series of computer-generated documents.

The story starts with a friendly note from the library, informing Our Hero that the copy he had borrowed of Robert Louis Stevenson's Kidnapped was overdue. After one or two more increasingly urgent requests for the return of the book, the matter is handed over for legal action, but not before some bureaucratic bungle transforms the issue from an overdue library book into a criminal case involving the kidnapping of a certain Robert L. Stevenson.

Things become increasingly serious as Our Hero is eventually tried and sentenced to be executed for kidnapping and murder (since it had been determined that the victim was, indeed, deceased), and the story ends with what we today would call an "out of the office" automated response from the governor's office on the issue of staying the execution, leaving the reader to draw the final conclusion.

I suppose this story popped up on my radar because of my annoyance at being asked to find "proof of payment" for a payment Comcast tells me they received from me (but applied to a wrong account). Recalling this story leads me—for reasons right or wrong—to want to comply, if only to avoid potential probable almost certain unpleasantness later.

I mean, this is Comcast we're talking about. :^)

Cheers...

Whoo-ee!

Do you know how long it's been since I've used the word "parallelepiped"? It seems like decades, at least. (Certainly that long since I've heard the word pronounced.)

When was the last time you used it?