I have been trying to get Time Warner to come to my home for the past 12 days. It’s much like a gentleman caller you keep making casual plans with, but they never pan out. You’re Snapchatting, Instagram messaging (is that still a thing?) and texting, but don’t see each other in person. Still, you don’t want to give up hope, since you’re in contact, so something could happen since hope springs eternal. Time Warner, like a former suitor, keeps promising they’ll call me, but I’m sitting by my phone, and I haven’t heard back. Is Time Warner ghosting me? More likely, they’re benching me, and keeping me around as an option. Sure, they might show up, but it’s the not knowing that keeps it interesting.
Moving is rough on anyone. There’s new furniture to buy, unpacking to do, and worst of all, wifi to procure. And when your options are limited (as in, Time Warner is the only company available in the building), you must commit to a life of mediocrity. It’s like choosing that guy at the bar, not because you’re actually interested, but because he’s the most attractive person there at midnight. Time Warner might there at last call, but you’ll regret it in the morning. After our first chat, they said enthusiastically, “Thank you for choosing Time Warner!” but it felt like scrolling through lukewarm choices on OkCupid. Options were limited. I already knew I’d made a huge mistake.
On my first day of attempting to get in touch with Time Warner, I was hopeful–much like a Bumble first date. Unfortunately, like a Tinder date, it was a disaster. They said they’d be in touch in three to four business days, even though they were supposed to come that weekend. Anyone who has ever attempted to make an app date knows that it can be hard to schedule when both parties have busy schedules. That’s how it felt like Time Warner–but instead of getting together, it fizzled out.
The next time I contacted them, they explained it would be three to four business days. Again, nothing. No word from T.W., who I really thought I’d hear from–much like that lawyer I went out with, who promised to call. Maybe both parties experienced a terrible power outage, causing them to receive limited internet connectivity. That’s the only explanation for their lack of manners. As I heard nothing, I started creating revenge fantasies. I’d move on! I’d show them! I’d get internet from someone else! It was the equivalent of a post break-up beach body. But without wifi, I couldn’t even swipe through my matches on The League. I’d have to buy cats immediately. My only hope would be meeting my next door neighbor, using his wifi and creating our very own romantic comedy.
But unfortunately, as I live underground (I prefer the term garden apartment to basement, and my outdoor area is a patio, not an alleyway) a hot spot just wouldn’t cut it. My connectivity was so poor I missed the Bachelorette finale, and wasn’t able to see Chad go rogue on Bachelor in Paradise. The Olympics might be happening, but I wasn’t even able to watch Simone Biles make history. I had entered a new era, and decided to start tweeting about it. I wondered if I should invest in owls, a la Harry Potter, or become a woman from the Victorian era in an effort to really lean into my new wifi-less existence. I’ve been given the runaround for days. Maybe they’re seeing someone else, and just don’t want to tell me?
Unsurprisingly, Time Warner immediately slid into my DMs, like all thirsty exes. But unfortunately, they didn’t clear anything up, set up a time to meet or even guarantee they’d be around in the future. But they did promise to be better (and hasn’t everyone heard that before in a relationship?) by contacting me in one to three days, instead of three to four days. The only next step is obviously texting them “u up?” when they least expect it. Maybe then, they’ll finally come over.
