Live blogging cable installation

1:00pm: my Comcast-given "window" begins. Any time now between 1 and 4pm a cable fairy will magically descend and let the food network come to my TV. I drool with anticipation (or was that the Dunkin' Donuts breakfast sandwich?).

1:10pm: I fret. What if the cable guy doesn't know that there's no buzzer. What if I miss him? Should I write a sign? YES! A SIGN!

1:24pm. Write "Hello Comcast, I am so effing thrilled that you are coming so I can watch Paula Dean eat butter. call me! xxx-xxx. thanks!"

1:26pm: Realize that's abhorrently geeky. Change sign to "Comcast: please call xxx-xxxx. Thanks."

1:29pm: Can't find keys to go put sign outside. WHERE ARE THE KEYS? Under the bed? No. In hoodie? No. In door still? NO!?

1:37pm: Finally find keys. On table, in plain sight.

1:45pm: Decide to actually update blog. Write half a post about how I like some tunes and wish they'd be in a movie sometime. Some brief googling settles that. Who knew Grand National was on the Transporter 2 soundtrack? Delete post.

1:54: A CALL!

1:57pm: Charlie, the cable guy arrives. He's a nice enough fellow, calling me ma'am (which is totally freaky) and I try to make idle chatter with him but he'll have none of it. He is here to get in and get out. Knee pads and all.

1:59pm: Charlie realizes there is no cable jack. NONE. That he'll have to drill outside, through a lot of brick, by the window to get cable into my living room. Charlie almost doesn't believe me, he looks around for a cable jack that does not exist. Swears slightly under his breath. Takes apart my window and looks for the sea of other cables on the building. Finds them. Notes how far the box is away from my house.

2:01pm: Charlie sighs. Deeply.

2:05pm: I take Charlie downstairs through the laundry room. He inspects some wiring, and sighs again.

2:07pm: Charlie brings his truck around the back. I realize that the back alley was just repaved, so he cannot park right up against my building. Must park about 15 feet away. He carries heavy things to and fro while I fret about breaking apartment building rules, namely keeping the door open with a piece of wood, and letting him at least U-turn on the macadam.

2:11pm: Charlie starts drilling.

2:15pm: Charlie still drilling.

2:25pm: Sweet Jesus, poor Charlie! He's balanced perilously on a ladder and leaning into the drill with all of his might. He's drilling through a foot and a half of brick. He asks me if I could hand him his bag through the window.

2:26pm: I hand Charlie his bag and inspect the progress. He's halfway there. Apologize profusely to Charlie. Charlie shrugs. Charlie drills some more.

2:28pm: I have visions of my neighbors throwing darts at my picture; of them cursing my name. The noise is unreal. I have visions of Charlie, day dreaming about laying on the couch and watching football.

2:31pm: Charlie abandons drilling for hammering. Swears softly again. Hammering goes SUPER loudly. Take that, STOMPY!

2:34pm: Headache ensues. Embarrassment ensues. I hope no one has a migraine today. Or is home. It's too pretty a day to be inside anyway. Convince self that neighbors are not at home, but rather out in the world!

2:37pm: SUCCESS!!!!!! Sweet success!!!!!

2:41pm: Charlie gets the box and everything installed super fast. I offer him a glass of water and a banana, but he just goes for the water. I wish I had coffee, or a cheeseburger, or like, caviar for him.

2:42pm: Charlie calls up Comcast for the job and asks them to let the cable on through. Let it flow, baby, let it FLOW!

2:47pm: No cable. Charlie calls up Comcast again and is all "There's no juice!". Tina, on the other end of the phone sasses him. He tells her "C'mon boo-boo. Do your job now." I decide I like Charlie. He is sitting on a huge coil of cable sideways in the middle of my living room telling Tina about herself.

2:52pm. I handed Charlie a check, thanked him profusely, and am sitting on my ass watching Project Runway reruns.

There is a god.