Grammar.police



Friday, February 27, 2004
We Are Experiencing Ethical Difficulties
It's a disaster over here. My phone line and DSL are fully operational again after a near week-long hiatus, which I naturally blamed on the phone company. Yesterday a phone guy came by and discovered that, as it turns out, someone had taken a blowtorch to the telephone box, which sits outside my upstairs neighbor's back door. Naturally we asked him if he'd seen anything, and as a matter of fact, he had—just the other day he shood away a guy he found soldering this utility box upon his return home, and, incidentally, this incident had nothing to do with the fact that the guy who gives him free cable (and threatens me from time to time) offered him free phone—I assume my phone—which he sternly refused. (What else can I do but shake my head and walk away? And prepare for another drawn-out, thunderous night of steel-toed Jazzercise or whatever it is he's doing up there as he sleeps his way through every male in the District.)

People, issue all the quasi-legal marriage licenses you want, but please, I must beg you to respect the law when it comes to your utilities. I wondered down that path once and now my neighbor's hook-up man, who assures me that he's my cable technician "forever," turns up to service our line in the middle of the night (meaning that I pay him to leave). I walk down my street and shake my head at these digital huslters, preying on fresh-from-undergrad country boys on the rise. Let my cautionary tale serve as your warning.

With that, I'm up for another 12-hour day of work. I'm reduced to the diary form here because I haven't been keeping up—until the end of next week, I'm a goddamned zombie. Wish me strength and check in this weekend.


This weekend, I think I'll catch up on this primary election people keep talking about.