Their current one is “We’re connected to you by more than power lines”, but in reality they can’t even keep our lights on, much less connect with us in some alleged customer service nirvana wherein you could actually get a real, live Pepco agent on the line.
Last night, around 12:30am, my roommates and I were watching the Padres-Rockies game, a 13 inning marathon that would ultimately decide the winner of the National League’s wild card spot. It was the bottom of the 13th, tied game, Rockies had a runner on third…and then we were plunged into pure blackness as the electricity was cut.
“#%&@*!!!!!!!! I forgot Pepco was turning off the power tonight!”
At least this time they warned us by attaching a notice to our doorknob a week prior (obviously, though, we had completely forgotten about this). In August, our block experienced two nights of unexpected power outages lasting from 7-10 hours. It is a lot of fun, I assure you, to sit outside in the humid DC summer, wondering why your neighbors a block away are lounging in their comfortable, well-lit, air-conditioned townhouses while the AA batteries in your $5 flashlight quickly deplete. I really should have learned my lesson from the “Hey-Pepco-where-the-eff-is-my-power” summer of ’06, and invested in one of those Coleman lanterns, or, better yet, just moved (preferably back to CA, where we are now sans rolling blackouts thanks to the demise of Enron).
The Padres, BTW, lost. At least my Angels are in the post-season.
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