The seven hells of internet connection

My router has burned out again.

It was just last October that my last router burned out and I had to make a series of frantic phone calls where computer technicians treated me like a moron.

Oh, wait, I was actually acting like a moron.

That’s what technology does to me. At the slightest upset, I turn into Attila the Hun’s half-wit sister. As Geri the Hun, I scream at automated “helpers” who refuse to transfer me because I am yelling “Go on” into the phone. After about 25 of these yell-offs, in exhaustion I whispered, “go on,” and she actually put me through.

Then I tried to read off a tiny serial number that wasn’t a serial number at all and got cut off in the middle of my “help” session.

So I called back, yelled at the automated voice some more and was finally delivered unto Joseph, the calm in the middle of my technological storm.

As we worked our way through to the eventual conclusion that my router could not be saved, Joseph knew exactly how to calm me down.

“I won’t leave you, Geri,” he assured me when I asked after too long a pause, “Are you still there?”

“I’m going to see you through this, Geri.”

Maybe Joseph knew that hearing my own name in the midst of techno babble was calming, because he used my name often. And unlike the other people who thought I should know which black blob was the modem, he explained every piece of equipment quietly and with assurance. I even trusted him enough to do as he said when he asked me to stick a paperclip into a hole in the back of the router in hopes of resetting it.

That’s how much I trusted Joseph.

“I’m afraid it can’t be saved,” Joseph told me when the paperclip trick didn’t work. “But I will help you. I am going to send you an email,” he said, and it would explain how I should proceed.

“But I can’t get on the internet to read the email,” I cried with Geri the Hun volume in my voice.

“Yes, you can,” he replied. “Just unhook your computer from the router and connect it directly to the modem.”

And I did that, and it worked, and that’s why I’m sitting on the floor of my sunroom typing this because my router is located four rooms away from where the computer normally lives.

Joseph, that email better be waiting for me when I finish writing this. I have your name and my support number and Geri the Hun is not afraid to use them.



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