I’d like to buy the world a Coke.

I have finally joined the late 20th century. My home phone and Internet service are back. Jesus, Allah, Buddha – I love you all!

The whole deal wasn’t as painful as I’d feared. I did my own technological sleuthing in the phone box on the outside of my house (after which I decided that maybe tree branches were to blame for my connectivity outage and so trimmed my trees, alone, on a ladder, in the dark, knowing the whole time that I was being a moron. But that’s a story for another time.). And after my technological sleuthing, I entered a repair ticket online at work. Easy enough.

I was pretty pumped about zero time on the phone with AT&T. But the repair dude – Doug – called my cell to tell me he was headed to my house. That was nice. And then he called to tell me that he was done. That was nice, too – even if Doug reported that there was still static on the line and so another repairman was coming back the next day.

Doug was A Repairman. Rather gruff, but nice enough. But he was a bit taken aback when I asked how his day was going, and when I thanked him for calling. It must really suck to be the recipient of misdirected anger all the time.

So, the next repairman was Luis. I spoke with him three times. Each time, I asked him how he was doing, and I thanked him. I don’t think this is all that weird, do you? I’m from the Midwest … isn’t this just what we do?

Well, sweet Luis giggled every time I asked him how he was doing. Like, giggled and wasn’t able to talk. He was so taken aback that I was actually being nice to him. It wasn’t creepy, it was just … sweet. It made me want to bake him a pie, if I were capable of such crust-based activities.

When did we stop being nice to each other? Is it really that hard?

I will admit that I was using some very choice words to describe AT&T in the privacy of my own home. Yes, I used that word, and a combination of those words, and, oh yeah, a new one I made up just for the occasion. But I would never use those words with the actual people whose job it was to fix the problem. But since when did this make me Miss Congeniality?

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