Never fall in love with an Internet service provider

After weeks of Internet connection trouble, the monolith known as Century Link, arrived on my doorstep today and commandeered my Internet life. I could have opted to keep my Internet service provider, a local company I love, but I would have to settle for half the speed I'm paying Century Link for.

So I did the prudent, logical thing. I said goodbye to my ISP. I had to break up by email, because I was weeping too hard to speak. What the heck? I laughed even while I cried. I'm just a customer! Customers come and go. Why do I feel like I am losing a friend? I didn't weep when I cancelled my 24 Hour Fitness account. Why am I so sentimental over cutting my ISP loose?

After I wiped my tears, I pondered the question. It could be I'm weeping over other things that are lurking in my subconscious. Like the entire past six years of the graduate degree grind. That would be enough to make anyone gnash their pearlies and wail to the moon. It could be I'm grieving the loss of my eyebrows concurrent with the growth of a mustache. Argh, enough said. It could be I'm teary because, I don't know, because it's not 90 degrees, I'm not young enough, thin enough, or smart enough, and my car is over ten years old? Hell, the world is going to hell in a handbasket: It could be anything!

Except, I don't cry much anymore. Mostly my life is remarkably serene. There have been a few bumps—the deaths of my father, my friend Karen, and my cat Meme. I cried at those events, and still feel sadness when I think about them. I remember I cried when my 1987 Honda CRX blew its engine. (That was a sad day, let me tell you.) But I am not sure why I am classifying my ISP among that special group of angels. I've never even met the guy who ran interference for me with Century Link. It seems somewhat ironic and terribly unfair that all his excellent customer service just lost his company a customer.

What I've learned from this startlingly soppy experience is that business is based on relationships, and relationships are built on trust. I trusted my ISP. I felt great comfort when I received terse, polite emails from him, knowing he was handling everything for me. I pictured a geeky guy hunched over a computer, monitoring my Internet connection with one hand while waving a laser sword at Century Link with the other.

Oh mi gorsh. Can you believe it? My Internet connection just went down again. I really hope Century Link is working on the line somewhere, because now I have no one to turn to, no one to call. I have the Web equivalent of a flat tire, and nobody to call to come rescue me. I just broke up with my hero, my knight in shining armor, my beloved ISP. I'm stranded on the information highway! Curse you, Century Link!