Customer Service

Yesterday I was working on something important when the Internet stopped working. For a while I thought it was me or my IPad, but eventually I called Time Warner to learn from the talking robot, which is able to research my problem online, that there was a disruption in my neighborhood.

This afternoon the robot called back to advise that the problem had been fixed. After fiddling with the modem and the router for a while, I realized that my problem had not been solved. I immediately fled the house amid much frustration to calm down by taking a walk to buy some bagels. As I trudged up the hill, I spotted a distinctive little Time Warner repair truck double-parked 5 doors up the block ( with 2 double-parking tickets compliments of NYC decorating the windshield.) Maybe the City thinks he should carry his little truck upstairs with him when he makes house calls in a neighborhood known infamously as No Park Slope.

Throwing myself on the repairman's mercy, I gave a brief history and pleaded for help. After listening politely to me, the repairman explained that he couldn't help me unless I was on his manifest, which I clearly was not. This sounded very familiar to me, because it happened the same way several months before. It took a long time for a Time Warner repairman to appear after making an appointment.

Anyway, hope springs eternal, and I am sometimes optimistic and naive, so I tried again. Contrary to what he might expect, my internet problems are usually very basic and easily fixed. I tried to impress on this young man my expectation that he could solve my problem in probably two minutes. If you can't fix it in three minutes, you should just leave, I told him. He was very nice and decided to bend company rules to try and help me.

Up we went to my house, and sure enough, within two minutes the modem and router were readjusted and everything was back to normal. I am used to this experience with both of my sons; they smile indulgently whenever they fix one of my bedeviling problems. This is undoubtedly what happens to a lot of people who didn't grow up with the Internet.

After the repairman left, I considered Time Warner's dilemma. Clearly they can't let any subscriber flag down a repairman with a prescribed list of customers awaiting his services willy nilly. This would create chaos and would be akin to jumping a line on a checkout counter. On the other hand, my "repair" was just a tweak, and it really took no more than two minutes, from start to finish. He created tremendous relief for me and lots of goodwill for his employer. A little discretion and judgment lodged with TW's repairmen might not be a terrible thing now and then. I sure wished I could have sent a commendation for his assistance to the company, but we agreed it would do more harm than good. I can't help thinking though, that in the "good old days" they probably let the local policeman or other public servant create tons of good will by such little acts of kindness so much appreciated.

One final part of this experience struck me like a thunderbolt. Not so long ago, I regarded the Internet as an interesting curiosity. After a short time it became a fascinating addition to my life. Now, with experiences like these, when the Internet is taken away from me, I suddenly realize that this advance has become essential and indeed indispensable in my life. Not just for email, or news, or vital research information, but in every aspect of my life. I ask it questions, like how to cook something, explain Einstein's theories to me (simply), or what do 100 people think of the restaurant I'm going to tonight (Yelp). The need has become addictive and endless.

So thanks again to my hero from TW -- whose name I shall not mention lest the old saying comes true in his case: No good deed goes unpunished!