Tits on a Bull

"That was about as useful as tits on a bull"

That was one of my first interactions with a Long Island-based service provider.

Today I spent five hours with Anthony and Simon, two Verizon FiOS installation technicians based out of Hempstead here to install video and Internet service into my apartment. When I originally scheduled the appointment, the online wizard said the process should take about four hours. I scoffed at that assessment; how hard can it be to hook up some wires and give me a disc to set up the Internet router?

Boy, was I wrong.

It started off easy enough. Anthony, with his cup of coffee and work boots, stormed into my apartment and looked at the coaxial splitter in the living room. "Great, it's on an exterior wall. This should take no time." He installed some small device into my electrical socket while I read Elie Wiesel on the couch, then went to grab his drill to make a hole for another box that apparently makes this service truly "fiber to the home." Then he disappeared.

Next thing you know, Anthony has an apprentice, Simon. They saunter in and out of the house, Anthony explaining why they have to do certain things. Then they take their smoke break.

Afterward, while Simon goes outside to run cable, Anthony and I chat about the weather, my new job, unions, Verizon CEO Ivan Seidenberg and politics. Typical New York banter, I surmise. He's an affable guy until we turn on the television and I see an error message in front of Verizon's version of NY1. So we call the number and wait... and wait... and wait...

Anthony and Simon stay with me while we try and figure out what this error message is about. The number we call is a customer accounts number; nonsense since I've never had a Verizon service, not even a cell phone bill. Anthony gets on the phone and tries to sort things out but they bounce him to about a half-dozen different people. We're on hold for a half hour.

Instead of being apologetic, both techs start raising a stink on my behalf. That's where the introductory quote came in. Eventually Anthony hangs up on the customer service person after I start getting angry with them. They swap out all of the equipment and magically the cable works.

Now I really should have been mad at Anthony and Simon, since they should have had the sense to swap out equipment before getting on the phone for an hour and a half. But for some reason, I appreciated their company. They're typical New Yorkers: affable until you tick them off. They commiserated with me, told me I should call up and push for some free services, and laughed when I started giving the lady on the phone a bit of attitude.

No BS: one thing I like about New York already. We'll see if that is true tomorrow when I start my first day of work.