Hello! Hello! Hello!

I'm back, on-line, WiFied with Excellent signal strength. For the first time in weeks, I can write my post with aplomb and acumen, knowing that I will not be dropped in the middle. I will not narrate the various and sundry vagaries that my Comcast modem put me through in the past three weeks. Suffice to say, IT WAS HELL AND BACK. Okay, maybe I should reserve that for something a tad more dire. But still--.

The Comcast person was set to arrive this morning between 8 and 10. These are not, normally, hours that I'm spry--or even, often, up. But I lurched out of bed at 7-something, stuck my contacts in my eyes, combed my hair and wondered what the hell I was going to do for the next couple of hours. At 8 sharp, a lovely lady from Comcast called to ask if I was still wanting my visit between 8 and 10. Yes indeedy, I said. See you soon, she replied. At 9:55 the doorbell rang.

Molly and I answered the door together and there before us was the Comcast person. It was a kid. A kid that looked to be twelve at most. I opened my mouth and in true Jane fashion, the following flew out: "Are you old enough to be doing this?" Evidently the Comcast person was not unfamiliar with that response and was generous enough not to spit on me or otherwise show intensely masculine displeasure. As he worked away fiddling with the wires and such, I studied him.

He had a small face, sweet really, and very pale. His hair was red, cut very short and his head was dwarfed by a too large Comcast cap. He wore jeans, which couldn't mask the fact that his ass was the size of a 52" big screen TV, and his sports shirt hung limply from shoulders that were half of that. He had all the requisite paraphernalia hanging from his belt and steel-toed work boots, but still, something wasn't right. He was mushy, soft and I wondered for a moment if he suffered from one of those endocrine issues that make you age prematurely, or maybe not at all. Then I looked some more, did the whole up and down check, and saw that he seemed to have breasts. Were these man-titties? I have several relatives who have man-titties and they're not so, so There, present over a great expanse of chest. Suddenly it hit me: strapped- down girl-boobs of a generous size, say C cup or better, would spread out in just such a way. And I wondered if the lovely lady who called to confirm the appointment was not a secretary back at the office, but the tech himself.

Still, he diagnosed and fixed my Comcast problem, which was the router, router, router being old and broken and bad. Now I have a new router, and I'm absolutely good to go. At last. Computer consistency, thou art mine again.