The End of the Affair

If you see me on the street, please be kind. I’m feeling a bit vulnerable and shaken. Last week I ended a relationship that spanned nearly twenty years. I left Time Warner Cable and switched to FIOS.

I can remember how the relationship started. I was a young woman moving to the big city full of hopes and dreams. Okay, I was 30 years old and moving into my studio in Gramercy Park. I honestly can’t recall if I had a choice in cable providers but that was ok. I was already in love. I was coming from a home where we still used an antenna and our viewing choices were limited only to the networks and their local affiliates. Now, I had myriad cable stations, I had HBO and I had what was to become my constant companion, NY1.

I miss you Pat!

Honestly, I start to choke up when I think about Pat Kiernan, Roger Clark, Roma Torre (and her ubiquitous crested blazer) and all the gang at NY1. I awoke to them every morning of my life since that fateful first installation on 22^nd Street. It was Pat Kiernan who broke the news to me that the first plane had crashed into the towers. I witnessed Roger Clark's triumphant weight loss day by day, month by month and then began to notice as the pounds packed back on.

NY1 was my subway guru, my weather – and subsequently – wardrobe advisor, my political insider, my protector (by alerting me to crimes and fuzzy videos of suspects), and even told me what other television I should be watching (I was a devotee to their “Watching Pictures On Demand” show.)

How could I ever give all of that up?

The truth is, no matter how much I loved NY1, my relationship with Time Warner Cable was an abusive one.  Over the years, TWC had done some rather unforgiveable things to me and I just kept turning the other cheek.

For instance, once my cable just died, out of nowhere, just stopped working. I called TWC and they tried to blame me by asking questions like, “is it plugged in, is it turned on?” etc. etc. They told me that I’d have to wait five days for a technician to come. I spent five days listening to music and playing old videos (the horror!) And when they finally arrived it turned out that a technician had turned off my cable (in the hallway) instead of a neighbor 's who had moved out. TWC didn’t send flowers, didn’t beg for mercy on bended knee. In fact, they fought me when I asked for a refund for those days without service.

Then there was the time when I had the audacity to cancel my “hotspot” because it NEVER worked. I had signed up to have my own personal wifi for my ipad because I was travelling back and forth to Palm Springs so often during my father’s illness, and needed to work and stay in touch constantly. When my father was actually dying and I was stranded in LA airport waiting for a connection I tried valiantly and the hotspot wouldn’t let me connect to try to find an earlier flight. I was helpless and TWC had abandoned me yet again – and when I needed them most.

One of the first things I did after he died, and I flew home was to call TWC. The customer (dis)service representative on the other line either had most of their frontal lobe removed or had been a Nell-like creature raised in the wild by something other than sentient beings. I went through my story, bit by bit and emphasized that this was a life and death situation – literally. And, besides that, the damn thing never worked. Not in doctor’s offices, not in homes, never. Therefore, I should be allowed to quit my contract without any fee. This female voice on the other end of the line refused and without any sort of empathy or remorse. I mean, how can you listen to someone tell a story of their father dying just three days before and not express some sympathy? It got so bad and so frustrating that I actually asked if she was a human being. She did not respond. Eventually, I spoke to enough people and made enough fuss that I was refunded the surcharge for termination – but it took months.

That should've been the final straw but it wasn't. I continued to take the abuse. There were outages for no reason; periodic pixilation during the Big Bang Theory; dropping the arts station, Ovation; capricious charges; constant billing increases; and; finally, the hubris of the CBS shutdown in August.

But still I wasn’t moved to switch. Like a spouse stuck in an abusive marriage, I just kept thinking it would get better – or at least not worse. I was reminded of one of my favorite sayings, “there are two things that people hate most: change, and the way things are!” That's why despite having consistently abysmal customer service ratings, TWC is still number one. Like others I kept asking myself, "What if I gave up Time Warner and my beloved NY1 and I wasn’t happy, what then? Would TWC take me back, would I have to pay some sort of fine, stay home for entire day waiting for them as a penance. And was I too old to learn a new channel lineup?"  The future was already uncertain, I needed the certainty that my cable gave me no matter the cost.

So, how did I find the courage to leave my abuser? Well, I didn’t. One of the great things of having a husband is that sometimes they’ll do for you what you can’t do for yourself.

One day FIOS was camped out in my lobby. I smiled as I walked by, like seeing one of those marvelously handsome naval officers during Fleet Week. Nothing would ever happen between us as long as I was in a committed relationship so why not smile. But my husband did more than smile, did more than flirt. He hooked us up.  

Loyalty and familiarity are hugely powerful, but so is money. When we realized that we could have a fresh start with a new suitor while saving $40 a month (not to mention the $300 gift card that should come in 12-16 weeks) things changed.

So last week, we hosted Mike, a very bright friendly FIOS technician, in our home for four hours. It was nerve wracking. Not so much because a stranger is untangling an overgrown ivy plant from some embarrassingly dusty cable wires and overhearing private conversations about my nephew, but because it represented my divorce from NY1 and from everything I knew about my television, my lover.

A week later, I’m proud to report that I’m on steadier ground. I printed out a list of my favorite channels. I’ve already memorized TLC, QVC and where the HD networks are. Heck, not bad for a 40-something, right? The picture is noticeably clearer, there are a ton more premium channels, and a local weather station. But no NY1.

Each day I wake up at the crack of 10 am (or 11 honestly) hoping to find out what’s going on in my world (because my world is NYC) and I’m shut out. I fumble around the dial trying to find something of substance and instead are presented with the Price is Right or the View. MSNBC seems to only have pundits talking about stuff I already know and not even that smartly. So I am forced to turn off the TV, read the New York Times on line, and then get to my writing or studying or house work or exercise. Hmmm?

Yes, I have found that without my friends at NY1, I get more done. I feel more productive and therefore happier.

But if you have NY1 and I visit your home, I hope you won’t mind if I sit down for an hour or five just to spend a little time with my old loves. ‘Cause breaking up is hard to do.