I woke up this morning to a phone truck outside the window, and a burly telephone company representative making concerned clucking noises and buckling on a tool belt.
Apparently, there had been no active phone service at my new house since 1999, so the phone man suspected that my phone line might not actually work. He clambered around on the roof for quite some time, making ominous humming noises, and finally descended and said “I’ll be back.”
“Oh,” I said. “Er, well, ok.”
“Yes,” he said, darkly, before vanishing down the alley.
When he returned, he had even more implements, and a set expression. After rattling around with the phone box for quite some time, he emerged with an “ah-hah,” and had me plug an implement into the jack inside.
“We’re going for a light,” he explained, “either red or green, I don’t care. If it doesn’t light up…”
I plugged it into the jack, and my heart sank when the light remained unlit. However, I happened to remember a secondary jack, which was rather decayed, and hidden under a box of sweaters. I managed to dig it out, I plugged the device in, and lo and behold, the light was green. I skipped outside to relay the information and the phone man looked visibly relieved.
“Well then,” he said, “that’s that.”
Although my internet isn’t supposed to be turned on until tomorrow, I decided to give it a shot anyway, and plugged the router in. After a tense minute or two, a reassuring bank of green lights flashed and then stayed on.
I have, at last, internet. I am a little embarrassed about how happy it makes me.