Comcast is Choss 2

Simone, my longtime landlord and college buddy, used to work for a software development firm that, as best I can tell, wrote programs for companies that needed to monitor internet traffic. Specifically, the programs he helped write would search the internet for keywords, specific sites, and likely blogs that were concerned with the client's product. So it was with shallow familiarity, sometimes known as "Modern Jackass" insight, that my recent interaction with Comcast failed to faze me in the least. When I originally compared them to crumbly rock at John Wallace's behest, something deep down told me that they were watching.
I checked back to the site today to review if anyone had commented on any posts. Frankly, I was hoping that someone would have read Volume I and told me that I was a genius. The next best thing was when Mark Casem left a little note for the subsequent post, "Comcast is Choss."

"I would like to apologize for troubles you are experiencing with our company.

I decided to leave a comment so that I can offer my assistance in resolving the issue with your phone service.

Please send me your best contact number as well as the phone number on the account so that I can assist further.

Thanks for sharing this post. I appreciate the opportunity to assist."

Mark Casem
Comcast Corp.
National Customer Operations
We_Can_Help@cable.comcast.com

How bout that? It's a wonder that Comcast's software didn't alert John Wallace that someone was talking about him. I have a creeping suspician that Mr. John Wallace, of NBC fame, or Mr. John Wallace, petroleum magnate, would have been the first to hear the gossip. Sometimes these artificial intelligence things can't be trusted to differentiate.

But now that they're aware of my service issue, I'd like to also bring to light my dissatisfaction with their billing policy. Before sending me an invoice, I'd at least like to receive a functional telephone line. I rarely get the chance to tell my boss, "You know what, I know you want that lease report tomorrow, but how 'bout you pay me today and I'll get back to you next week." I am going to wait to write Mark at Comcast until after Friday, when we have the next repair man scheduled. Hopefully he'll just fix the line and not have to wrestle with any monsters, aka black widows.

But speaking of John Wallace the petroleum magnate, I used to caddy for him when I was in high school. John made an appearance as Matt Hickey's guest in the annual Member-Guest tournament, I believe called the Sliceroo. Truth be told, I spent so much time heavily innebriated at Lakewood Country Club that I might have made that up. Regardless, John later went on to orchestrate a hefty investment into his oil company from Vegas tycoon Kirk Kerkorian. In an eerie Six Degrees of Separation sort of way, I feel like I should be offered preferred stock in Delta Petroleum for my brokerage/putt reading services. And I can clean a 9 iron 'til it sparkles.

I don't think it would be too good of an idea to get into the old Lakewood stories Can you honestly be taken seriously when you're rolling on the floor of your boss' office in tears because your high school girlfriend has made out with one of your buddies? Or when Matt Hickey, the member who invited Wallace to LCC for a few rounds, approaches the caddy shack only to be greeted with "Whattup, Meat Cock!" At least I didn't wedge a golf cart under the truss of a bridge. That was somebody else.