All the little changes you've made in your life over the past couple of years suddenly add up when the power goes out.

If you already knew your cordless wouldn't work, you probably went to the back bedroom and used the hard-wired phone. But for me, that was just the first consideration; I'd dropped our land line months ago. But with two cell phones at my disposal, I figured I could still call in a trouble report.

I got out the phone book—online directories being, well, off-line until the power came back on—and tried to look up Oncor, which has maintained the lines since deregulation separated electric providers from their grid. No listing.

Next, I looked for Reliant, my provider. Not in the business directory. I dragged out the yellow pages and found it under Electric Service (still nothing for Oncor) but Reliant offered no trouble-reporting line. I called the main number.

Their VRU wanted an account number right off the bat. I looked again at the dark, silent computer; I had gone paperless-autopay a long time ago. Then the voice assured me it could still look me up via my driver's license number if I keyed that in. Having wasted nearly five minutes getting to that point, and with the temperature inside the house climbing, I found it simpler to press end and call TXU, the former local monopoly, whose quarter-page ad boasted a service line.

to take my trouble report, TXU's robot first wanted my phone number, which gave me pause: Our cell phones could not possibly hint as to our location. So I took a flyer and punched in our old land-line number. The VRU responded with my home address. (Brilliant, but I don't want to know how.) Then it sent me to a live rep, whose Spanish accent I found ironic since I'd pressed 1 for English.

He expertly took my report, though I had to try not to wonder why he asked if we lived in a mobile home. (Beer on my breath? Little Roo screaming in the background?) While holding, I took the opportunity to step outside and ask the neighbors if their power was out, too. Answer: Yes. Of course, I could not have done that while holding on a land line.

My new TXU friend promised to have Oncor send a truck out as soon as possible. I asked if I could have Oncor's number for the next time this happened. He demurred and said I could just call him and he'd forward the message.

So: I would report a problem to a business I didn't patronize, which couldn't actually fix the problem themselves, having looked them up in an obsolete directory, referencing a phone number that wasn't mine, in a language that wasn't native to the operator.

The next challenge for me would be sharing all this with you while awaiting the restoration of power. (All murk and no laptop makes Rittenhouse a dull scribe.) I would have to compose with pen and paper, which I hadn't done in about 25 years.

And just as I finished that sentence, a light bulb went on. And then another. And then another.

Thank God something still works the way it's supposed to.

Posted by: Michael Rittenhouse at 08:04 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 545 words, total size 3 kb.

1 HATE when that happens. That's why we keep all the phone numbers on an index card tacked to the bulletin board next to the computer.

Posted by: RebeccaH at June 05, 2008 09:43 AM (JAQT9)

2 Low tech FTW!

Posted by: Michael Rittenhouse at June 05, 2008 06:41 PM (8Z50G)

3

though I had to try not to wonder why he asked if we lived in a mobile home. (Beer on my breath? Little Roo screaming in the background?)

HAHAHAHAHAHA! Please don't make me laugh right now. It hurts.

Posted by: pajama momma at June 08, 2008 02:34 PM (f3xJa)

4 Then you'd better not see today's entry, about the blackberry proprietor.

Posted by: Michael Rittenhouse at June 08, 2008 02:46 PM (z5c04)

5 I'll wait till my next serving of drugs then.

Posted by: pajama momma at June 08, 2008 08:25 PM (f3xJa)

Hide Comments | Add Comment