Overheard in Pittsburgh

University Center, CMU:

College Girl: My metrosexual friend is really into tea cosies.

Airport, Phoenix, Arizona.
While waiting for the Phoenix-Pittsburgh flight, a man in a Steelers jacket and a man in a Penguins jacket spot each other:

Steelers Fan: Hey! Penguin! Pay for your own damn stadium!
Penguins Fan: Why? You didn’t pay for yours!

Target, McKnight Road, North Hills.
A mother and young daughter are browsing the girls’ clothing department. The mother is listing aloud what she needs to buy:

Mother: …And I need stuff for the dishwasher, and pantyhose….
Girl: Daddy told me he needs new pantyhose too.
Mother: [ignoring the girl] …and we should pick up some Kleenex™…
Girl: MOMMY, DADDY NEEDS PANTYHOSE TOO! DADDY TOLD ME HE NEEDS NEW PANTYHOSE!
Mother: Shhh! Stop saying that! Daddy does not need pantyhose!
Girl: But Mommy! DADDY SAID HE NEEDS NEW PANTYHOSE!!!!!
Mom: SHUT UP! If you say that one more time, we’re leaving!

— Overheard by Smokey.

Friday I came home on my lunch break to find a Comcast van parked in front of my house. Although Comcast had at one point scheduled an appointment for Friday without my knowledge, I didn’t really believe that the van was there for me, so disillusioned am I with Comcast and its teasing, wanton ways. Also, I believed the appointment to have been canceled.

The technician, Ron Carter (the guy in the headline above), saw from the work order how much trouble we have had in getting our cable re-connected, so he waited for about an hour in the hopes that one of us might show up.

Mr. Carter said he didn’t want us to think that he had just not come, as others before him had done. This is the first time I have met a Comcast employee who has pride in his job. Countless customer service reps have told me about the inner workings of Comcast and how the processes there contain numerous dead-ends, needless waiting,
and independent contractors who simply don’t want to do their jobs. Despite whatever horror show it is that Mr. Carter might have to deal with at Comcast, there Mr. Carter was, smiling and friendly, understanding when I had to go back to work. I trusted him so much that I left him alone in my home.

When I came home Friday after work, I found the cable modem and tiny new digital cable box hooked up, the Welcome to Comcast literature laid out neatly on a nearby chair, and the cat I had put in the basement during Mr. Carter’s visit let out to roam freely in the hours between my lunch break and the end of my work day.
Does the amazing customer service of Ron Carter make me rethink my opinion on Comcast? No. I’ve never thought ill of any of Comcast’s employees; instead, I understand intimately how broken the Comcast machine is, and I empathize with these people whose efforts are so diminished by their employer.

I’ve written about this here because it has affected the site and because the sudden unreliability of my posting was embarrassing to me. I am glad people have been posting there own Comcast horror stories; please feel free to continue to do so. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one frustrated with Comcast and its practices. Plus they keep me from feeling so much like an Internet crank with an audience.