I wish to take this opportunity to apologize now for any PTSD your technician may experience as a result of driving slowly down my road this morning. I was in the process of chasing a food-thieving cat, and glancing out my window saw your technician, in his van, pull over directly in front of my house. Deciding this was an act of Divine Providence, I grabbed a throw blanket off the recliner, wrapped it about my nightshirt-clad body, and ran out the door, where I proceeded to harangue him at the top of my lungs when he made the foolish mistake of telling me he didn't know WHEN our promised DSL would be going into service.
I'm sure he's going to have nightmares of a fat woman, wrapped in a furry blanket, hair all a mess and waving in the breeze, holding an equally fat and furry (and struggling) cat, yelling at him that the next time a technician from your fine company comes down our road, they'd better be turning DSL on or risk getting shot repeatedly.
I mean, seriously...he should have known better, right?
The Mad Fat Woman