A plea in Favour of Anarchy

The day started well.  A stroll on the beach in Malibu in the company of FMH/Isadora followed by a few smashing cups of tea pre-departure.  Them to Ikea (why do I have a bad feeling about this?) and me to Santa Monica on Doris (the bicycle) for one last administrative push.

In the past three days I have pretty much covered off all the administrative bases:  UCLA registration, SoCal Gas, LA Water and Power, rent, landlord, Mexican with a van.... Done done and done.  So really the small matter of getting a phone contract should surely not be a trial?  Negative.

To each person that I mentioned AT&T to that whistled through their teeth in disgust, you were right, they suck.

After 4 hours spent (on and off in between 'breaks' in Barnes and Noble while they tried to resolve another issue (my guess = identifying their ass from their elbow)) we had still moved no further to them taking a $500 deposit from me on the grounds that I am Jonny Foreigner.  So I just left.

I would have pulled the same gig when LAWP asked me for a $215 deposit, but electricity is kinda essential.  So I just got on the Big Blue Bus up to Westwood, cash in hand, and gave it to them.  No over the phone customer friendly offerings here, just a weird Albino with an afro behind bulletproof glass.  I'd have taken a photo of her but I think that might have led to an unpleasant experience, so you'll have to content yourselves with this instead.

And to draw a conclusion from all these delightful experiences, let's ask Don Draper what he thinks.

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses... ?