A Ride to Forget

I hate public transportation. This is not new for me; however, I have always disliked airplanes, busses, metros, etc. Having my own car was a luxury I never fully understood until I went to visit a city where public transportation was the only option. My sisters in London use it daily, and the last time I was there, I had a nervous breakdown because someone left their gym bag on the tube. Everyone knows to keep an eye out for sketchy bags, but apparently I am the only one who thought this unattended luggage could be a problem.

I recently made the decision to sell my car and rely solely on public transportation. Being within the city, I have little use for a car and it is an unneeded expense for my father to continue paying for repairs and insurance. I can honestly say that I have never missed my car so much.

Public transportation can either be really great, or really, really terrible. With the times that I ride the metro or take a bus, it is more likely that it is terrible. I don’t understand the Metro system and how they can scam you for so much money. Two stops on the red line should not be more than $2.00, but since I am riding at “peak of the peak,” anything goes.

The other day, after cramming my way into one of the Metro cars, the doors closed and I was trying to avoid human contact from any unknown disease carrier or sweaty stranger. Normally I succeed in this by finding a corner of the train and keeping to myself for the five minute ride. This particular ride was not going to go my way, I could feel it. I did not find a spot that was suitable for me and knew that an odd looking man had shoved me into the train in order to fit in himself. As I held onto the pole next to me I felt a strange air on my left arm. When I looked over, the man who had so graciously pushed me was now sniffing my arm like this was a completely normal occurrence.

I stared at this man curiously and gave him a look as if to say “what on earth are you doing and can you stop immediately.” He did not understand my look and nudged closer to me. With nowhere to go, I had no choice but to let this strange man continue to smell my arm. As I have mentioned, I do not like to be touched, so when a stranger’s dirty nose is on my arm, I know to change my method of transportation to something a little less confined.

Yesterday, I decided to take the bus to work. I can only take the bus on days where I am really truly awake because of an incident I had a few weeks ago. I got on the bus and fell asleep and missed my stop by a mile and a half forcing me to run to work in order to get there on time. I now know to be fully alert on the bus so that I do not miss my stop again.

The bus was great. It was empty and I was able to get two seats to myself without the thought of having someone smell me. Just as I was getting comfortable, a man came on the bus and asked me if someone was sitting next to me. Clearly, no one was however there was an entire bus of empty seats. The man sat next to me for 15 minutes before exiting, staring at me the entire time. I do not know which one I prefer, the sniffer or the staring man. At least with the sniffer I did not have to make uncomfortable eye contact constantly until I finally was let off at my stop.

I realize that having a car would be a lot more trouble than dealing with the weirdo’s in the city, however, sometimes I really wish there was a better way to get to work. Sometimes it is nice to interact with some of the special people that live in the District, but often it is just discomforting. When I am standing on the platform with a friend and an old man is staring at me because according to my friend “he thinks you are a prostitute and wants to know how much,” that’s when I know it is time to figure out another method of transportation.

An Impatient Bonus

I am not a patient person. Slow drivers, slow walkers, slow talkers, etc. all irritate me beyond belief. When people make mistakes, I expect that they fix them in a fast and effective manner. When people see me speed walking down the street, I expect that they move to one side so that I can get by them quickly. And when I am in a hurry, I expect that people talk to me quickly so I can pretend to listen and leave immediately. Usually none of this happens, and recently I have been dealing with some class A idiots.

I moved into my apartment recently and knew that I would need internet and cable, a staple in my world. After doing some research, I learned that Comcast was the only available service in my building, so I unhappily scheduled an appointment for Comcast to come out on Monday afternoon.

I have had problems with Comcast in the past. In my previous apartment, the technician who came to install my cable used my personal information to call and text me on a daily basis asking if I have a boyfriend because he wanted to “show me a good time.” This same technician also went into my refrigerator and helped himself to my soda without a care in the world, I was clearly not pleased with this particular worker.

This time around, I hoped that I would not have to deal with people like this, but it seems I was very wrong. The only available time for the technician to come was between 2:00 and 5:00 p.m., therefore requiring that I work from home that afternoon. When the technician did not show up at 5:00, I called Comcast to complain and they informed the technician that he needed to show up immediately. Thirty minutes later, in strolled two men who did not seem to have any clue as to what they were doing.

As I watched them plug wire after wire into my extension cord, I knew that something was going to go terribly wrong. Just as I suspected, they plugged the extension cord into the wall and a huge shock went off in my living room. It was 7:00 p.m., Comcast was still in my apartment, and I now had a ruined outlet to deal with on another day.

The technician told me that he had ruined the box he had brought and would have to come back the following day. Irritated at the stupidity of it all, I explained that I could not take more time off and it would need to be a later appointment. Tuesday rolls around and I am waiting for the technician to come… for three hours. I decided it was time to call Comcast and give them a piece of my mind.

I love screaming at people. When my friends have problems, they often ask me to contact customer service for them. I think that people deserve the quality they are promised, and if it is not given, something needs to be done to make up for that. Comcast promises the best customer service that they can give so I was surely going to use that against them.

After an hour on the phone with Darnelle, she informed me that she would need to call me back after getting in touch with my technician. Darnelle never called back. I then got in touch with another customer service representative who was clearly brand new to the team. I explained that I refused to pay installation fees and required a different technician show up immediately.

Immediately was two days later. I am still waiting for the correct cable to be installed. I have to take yet another day off of work and I need to listen to two more technicians talk to their wives, girlfriends, sisters, etc. on the phone while they do a barely decent job of installing my cable and internet. What I will say is that Comcast has followed through on their customer service beliefs. They gave me a significant credit, waived the installation fee, and even dropped the monthly cost of my DVR.

My parents have always told me that I need to be more tolerant of people; that this will benefit me in the long run. Well Mom and Dad, look who just saved nearly $100 on my cable bill. How’s that for “good things come to those who wait?”