Parting Shot: A five-hour window

That’s what I was told I’d have to give the phone company in order to restore my landline service.

“If it’s determined that it’s not a problem with our equipment, you will be charged $85 for the service call.”

I sat, stunned.

If I hadn’t had a cellphone, I never would have known this. But when my landline went dead one night I was, naturally, curious. I called the phone company, asked about the problem and was told experts would run a “test.”

“No, everything’s fine on our end,” the customer service representative replied (after, of course, I pressed “1” for English, “2” for residential, “1” for service and waited while very loud music played between “wait time” announcements). “If you want to schedule a service call, I’ll see what we can do.”

The first open appointment? Two days later with a five-hour window.

If I lived in a little house on the prairie, that might have been devastating. No phone service? What if pa suddenly took ill and I had to call the Olesons to send the doctor out? Would I just have to chalk it up to life on the prairie? Or would I have to hitch up the buggy, drive him into town and hope for the best?

Luckily, pa doesn’t live with me and I have that cellphone. But, still, five hours? Pizza can be delivered in 30 minutes or less. Are there that many people with landline problems that we can’t push this along a little faster?

Undeterred, I asked if there was a way that I could get the first appointment of the day so I wouldn’t have to take off work just to wait around. “No, the earliest I have is in the afternoon. But there’s still the five-hour window.”

I thought for a minute. “Could you call me before you come, so I can still go to work?”

A long pause.

“What number would we call?”

I desperately wanted to give her my home number but that wouldn’t solve any problem because, of course, it doesn’t work. So I gave her the cellphone number.

“Considering the number of people who are dropping their landlines, wouldn’t it be wise to work on this repair time problem?” I asked.

A longer pause.

“We will call your cellphone before we arrive. Please be aware if this is a problem with your equipment you will be assessed the $85 service charge.”

Quickly, I tried to figure out how to regain strength. “What about the days I’m without service?” I asked. “What do I do about them?”

“If it’s determined that it’s our problem, you will be credited for the missed service. Thank you. We’ll send someone out on Friday.”

I hung up, miffed. (And if there’s ever a reason to use a word like “miffed,” this was it.)

Like a kid waiting for Santa Claus, I checked the phone repeatedly. I asked neighbors if they were without service. I checked reports of outages. Nothing. Undeterred, I took two of my phones to others’ homes and checked to see if they worked. They did. It had to be the line, I thought. But I wouldn’t know until Friday.

Meanwhile, what if I desperately needed that landline?

Thursday evening, I lifted the receiver for the 13th time and got a dial tone. It worked!

Friday morning, I furiously called customer service and told them that I wouldn’t need the technician that afternoon because I had a dialtone.

“Yes, we know,” the woman replied. “Your service was restored yesterday and we cancelled the technician. The trouble was with our lines.”

“Was anyone going to call and tell me?” I asked.

Without missing a beat, the woman said, “I just did.”

A snappy reply. And I didn’t have to give her a five-hour window.