Cox.

I’ve been busy relocating to a new pad (which is pimptastic. and cheaper), so I’ve been lax in both writing, and having interesting things happen besides picking things up, driving them across town and putting them down.

One thing I had to do was drop off my cable box and remote at Cox Cable, since my new place has DirecTV.

Now, the Cox building is far away from anything, full of disgruntled customers and slow moving southern beaurocrats. You take a number and sit. Only everyone has different letters which starts your number, So it goes from “Now serving B394891” to “Now Server E1389284.” Which leaves you sitting there praying for death.

This D-Bag sells D-Bundles.

This D-Bag sells D-Bundles.

It’s like the DMV, only with more comfortable seating and TVs everywhere. But the TVs are on the Cox Cable propoganda station. All I see is a this animated D-Bag, telling me I can save a bundle, yada yada yada. I’m thinking “What a waste, 700 channels and we’re stuck watching this? Wait. I have a remote in my hand!”

So I turn the channel to ESPNHD. Bam. SportsCenter. Life is good.

Other people saw what I did, and those of whom which also had remotes in their hands changed the TVs near them.

I flipped around, trying to find something better when a guy sat down next to me and was mezmorized. I told him the remote worked, and hopefully he liked my taste.

They finally called my number, and that guy quickly change the channel.

It only occurred to me later that I should have checked channels I don’t get, instead of flipping around HD. Maybe they had some awesome movies on PPV. Or maybe they got the Spice Channel. That would have been hysterical, to change it to the Spice Channel on my way out and crank the volume as I escaped and left the people in the waiting room watching some different Cox programming.

Get it? It’s a pun. Cox.

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