108. Cables (2/3)

 I slam the phone down on the receiver. It feels good. I should use the landline more often. I look out of the window. There really is a ladder against the front of our house! And a guy climbing up it! Soon to reach the windows of my son's room! And above my son's room there are my daughters' rooms..! OMG! I call my son and point at the ladder but he just shrugs and says:

'Some random guy up a random ladder.'

I am thinking I need to teach those kids of mine about Neighbourhood Watch.

'It's 'la fibre', mum!'

How I can have - at the same time - an exotic-sounding guy on the phone trying to sell me the stupid 'la fibre' and an exotic-looking (hunky) guy up a ladder nailing the stupid 'la fibre' into my wall.

I try to explain that to my son but he says he does not care as long as he gets a better Internet service. He even adds that ours is so slow it is 'so like last century'.

I wish teenagers would stop using the words 'random', 'so', 'like' and 'la fibre'.

'You cannot possibly know what it was like in 1995. So just zip it. Please.'

He has the knack to get me irate. I am about to go into lecture mode but I remember about the guy on the ladder who, while I am seizing yet an other golden opportunity to educate my son, is probably already inside my home! Quick I run out of the room and up the stairs.

I reach the window and open it and ... am face to face with Mr Hunky Guy.

'Good morning there! ... Excuse me, but what are you doing here banging nails into my wall?' I mean, did I give you permission to do this?'

The guy bursts out laughing.

'Ha Ha! Good Morning Madame! Sorry, I am so sorry, but it is la fibre.' And he stresses the last two words obviously so that I don't underestimate the importance of the activity.

I want to scream something not quite polite about the 'fibre' and his presence here. I do a bit of deep breathing I have been practicing recently (see previous post if you want to try it out) when in the corner of my eye I can see our neighbour picking up the traffic cones (definitely stolen) and walking away with them! I can't deal with the neighbour and Mr Hunky Guy at the same time so I have to make a choice. I choose Mr Hunky Guy.

'Yes, I know about the 'fibre'. (I too stress the word and shake my head from side to side at the same time) So, basically you are telling me that you are installing this 'fibre' without my permission?'

The guy laughs out loud again! 

'No, Madame! I am doing it for your neighbours! It is the fibre for the house next door!'

'OK. ... I see. You bang nails into my wall so my neighbours can get the 'fibre'! .... This is my house and you do not have permission. Who gave you permission? Do you have a badge? I can't see a badge.'

He shows me a badge. Honestly with all the concert halls and theatres shut at the moment it could be any badge. It could even be a collector's backstage pass for Johnny Halliday. I want to ask to look at it closer but seeing that I am at the window of the first floor and that he is perched on a ladder this could be dangerous. Plus the fact that my neighbour is now at his window I decide not to. I am wondering if he is worried that I am going to ask the guys to stop this and go get some official paper and then have his teenage kids moan about the last century connection.

'What about your colleague down there? Has he got a badge? And anyway, why are there two of you? And where is your van? Do you have a van?'

The guy on the ground admits it. He has no badge. Mr Hunky up the ladder is fiddling with bits of cables (the fibre must be in the cables I reckon) and is still laughing his head off.

'Yes, we have a van!'

'And why are you laughing? It is a perfectly reasonable question! You need a van that will say Blue or Yellow or whatever the fibre provider is.'

'Yellow! Madame, your neighbour is with Yellow. And he wants the fibre and the box for the fibre is on your wall. So we climb with no permission and fix the wire for your neighbour and ...'

So, not only my neighbours steal traffic cones but they also use my box for their benefit? The 'observer' down at street level starts laughing as well so I ask him a question.

'Are you just there to replace him in case he falls off the ladder?'

'No! I am here just to watch! 'We are doing the fibre optic cable, madame! It is good, very fast Internet!'

'Great! It is a really good idea this fibre optic thing! Now we can be brainwashed twice as fast, much more efficient! And we are paying for it! Amazing!'

They just laugh. So I decide not to give them a lecture about the old house and how it is already putting up with a lot of noise and movement. I hesitate as I am sure they would love to hear the story of the old woman (Simone? I still do not know for certain) who ferociously refused any kind of digging into her walls and refused the plumbing and the gas. In the last couple of months the gas people have dug the front of the house and stuck a box inside our wall, and now the fibre people have stuck a box in our wall and are nailing the fibre cable into it! 

What would she think of this?

I can hear the neighbours' window closing. My new friends are packing up. I ask them if they will come back for my fibre too, after all the box is on my wall and my kids moan too. 

They wave and say cheerio, laughing all the way to the - invisible - van. I close the window and decide to call Mr Exotic-Accent back.