"What are you wearing, Jake from State Farm?" I said into the phone.
"I am not Jake from State Farm. I am Sven from the kitchen," answered my husband on the other end.
"What are you wearing, Sven from the kitchen?" I retorted.
"My long underwear."
"You sound hideous, Sven from the kitchen."
"That's because I am a m..."
"Please stay on the line," broke in the familiar recording. "One of our representatives will be with you shortly. All calls will be answered in the order they are received."
"How does the soup look?" I said.
"Well, it's thawed out."
"That's good. It was a block of ice this morning. Did you leave it..."
"Hello," broke in a voice, "my name is Justin. How may I help you?"
Click.
That was my cue to hang up. I had been keeping Sven company, while he was on hold with the telephone company.
He was calling the telephone company, because, you see, Millie Noe, would like faster internet speed.
I want.
That is what, Millie, means in French.
I want.
We purchased an expensive sound system for Christmas a few years ago. Our computer was all set up to stream Pandora, into those beautiful, speakers.
But it didn't work.
The pony-tailed, Geek, from the Squad, who had been laboring over the issue all afternoon, said, "Your internet is just not fast enough. That's why it's not working. It's not your computer." And then he leaned back in his chair and took a bite of the hamburger, that Sven made him for supper.
I didn't think he was ever going to leave.
I have had it with, The Golf Channel, The History Channel and MSNBC.
I cannot be fooled. I know there is more to life, because we use to have a bunch of movie channels.
That was until a few months ago when Sven went and cancelled them.
Marlene from Directv, called his bluff and did not offer him a new package.
"Hello, Marlene, this is Sven. How are you today? That's nice. What state are you in? How is your weather? Um, hmm. It's cold here. Listen, I do not understand what this buck two eighty, charge on my bill is all about. Can you explain it? Um, hmm. Okay. I see. Well, I would like to cancel our movie channels. That's right."
The girl just said, "Okay, then."
And they were gone.
Here is a typical day in the Directv customer service department.
"We've got Sven on line one. Dennis, you are up."
"No way. It's not my turn. I talked to him last week. It is Donna's turn."
"I'm on break."
Sven built us a beautiful home.
It is located in the Black Hole.
In the beginning, he set up an antenna, inside the attic, above his work shop.
We got three local channels if it was really nice out.
Then, he erected the antenna on top of the garage, for a better signal.
No difference.
Eventually, we moved into the world of satellites and dishes.
And voila, we were hooked up to the internet.
Sort of.
It was more of a tease than anything.
I used to fall asleep, just waiting to login. And the satellite remote, was extremely complicated.
If a guest ever changed a channel or God forbid, turned up the volume, it was nothing but pure hell, with Sven in the closet at the control panel, yelling things to us, like, "Now what does it say?"
"Screw this satellite crap," he said.
He called up the cable company.
I was so excited.
I took a day off work and met with a guy, who came out to look over the situation.
"Well, my guess is that it will run you approximately $3500," he says.
"$3500.00!" says Sven, when I gave him the low down.
Sven called up the other satellite company.
And, that is when the love, hate relationship began.
"What is this charge for?" he would say to me, while staring at a bill on the island.
"I don't know," I would say.
"That's it."
And then, he would begin dialing.
"I am cancelling them," he would say to me, while the phone was ringing on the other end. "They just play the same shit over and over anyway."
"But," I would whimper.,
"Hello Steven, this is Sven. How are you today? That's nice. What state are you in? How is your weather? Um, hmm. It's cold here. Listen, I do not understand what this buck two eighty, charge on my bill is all about. Can you explain it? Um, hmm. Okay. I see. Well, I am calling to cancel our subscription. Yes, that's right. Cancel. I hear that we can get the same movie package from Hughes Net, for half of your price."
And by the time he would hang up, we would have more channels and free Cinemax, for three months, for less than what we were currently paying.
Until that last girl, Marlene, just said, "Okay then."
It turns out that my husband is a T.V. slut. He will sleep with which ever company will give him a better deal.
That is why the garage roof has two dishes in place.
It all depends which company my husband is in bed with at the moment.
Why take one down?
They will just have to come back and put another one up.
Our new trouble started in the fall.
We were already void of any movie channels, due to Marlene.
That was bad enough. But, for some reason, The Big Ten Network was only available on the T.V. upstairs, in our bedroom.
This made hosting parties for Badger Football Games awkward.
And, at the same time, Sven's beloved Golf Channel, beginning with the Morning Drive, started acting up.
Every time Sven switched from The Golf Channel to the History Channel and then back to the Golf Channel, he would get a message that said, your satellite signal 771, is lost.
Hence, another phone call from Sven.
Since, he was calling those poor people every day, they sent some guys out to our house to replace everything, all the way from the dish on the roof, right down to the remotes.
They were delighted that the competitions dish was there next to theirs. It was a cold and slippery day, and the man told me it gave him something to hang onto.
Sven was very happy.
Everything was fixed.
But, Millie Noe, was not.
She wants to stream.
There is Netflix and Hulu and a limitless supply of entertainment just floating around out in space for the grabbing.
Everywhere, that is, except the black hole, where we are located.
But that doesn't matter to Millie. That is still what Millie wants.
That is why my sweet Sven is talking to Justin, the telephone representative right now.
He already called directv.
According to Directv, we need at least 3.0 of some kind of a byte to be able to stream. They said we only have 1.6.
So, Sven is talking to Justin. He is going to get more of those bytes.
"What?" I said.
Oh, jeez. Sven just told me that Justin said they cannot give us anymore bytes.
"What? Well, maybe we should go back to Hughes Net, then," I said.
Look at their add.
And so he is dialing away.
"What?" I said.
Sven just told me that Hughes Net said we are not on their grid.
"Maybe we should check with the cable company again."
And so Sven is dialing, as we speak.
"What?" I said.
"Charter says we can't have cable for any amount of money. They don't even go past us on the highway."
"Huh?"
I think Charter has heard of Sven.
So, Sven is doing the only thing a T.V. slut can do.
He is calling up his friends at Directv.
"Sven is on line four. Darcy, pick it up."
"Na ah. I talked to him yesterday."
"Jonathon, pick up line four."
"Hello, welcome to Directv, This is Jonathon. How may I help you, Sven?"
Well, Sven just hung up the phone.
I'll find out what they said.
It might be good. Sven has that grin that he always has after sex.
"What?"
I was right. We now have every movie channel they offer for ninety dollars, for three months.
Some people are meant to stream.
And others are just meant to dream.
They call us, Stdreamers.