Last Thursday the shop below me had some phone lines put in, and mine stopped working. Like the technician just decided he didn't have enough wire for their job so he took mine. Figured it out Friday, then had to go through something like Kafka's 'The Trial' to convince RCN that no, I did not need to pay yet another company to straighten out their mess. [exaggeration=off]
They didn't arrive until today, and as soon as they got here, bubba scooted out the stairwell (normally closed) where grampa george is putting in a wall to satisfy municipal codes. SO, instead of making sure they didn't do any more rob-from-paul, etc., I had to go chasing after a beagle. Lost him after about 5 minutes. BUT: no problem… He has my phone number on his tag. DOH! *insert malevolent thoughts here*
Wrote off the dog, arrived back at house to find techies blaming other techies (latter techies not being present or accountable, of course). But they went about fixing it anyway while expounding theories about what the hell not-present-or-accountable techies were thinking when they did whatever they did… Fortunately, as the guy plugged in his phone to the box it rang.
Bubba had been captured after about 10 minutes and had only crossed 1 or 2 county lines (when his nose starts, he's oblivious to all else). Eventually I arrive back after collecting satisfied (I swear he looked like he had just had sex) beagle, and the phone was fixed. Went downstairs to see shop owners and, yes, they had discovered that one of their new lines was no longer working. They called Peter, et al…