Thomas Edison Must Be Spinning In His Grave

What a rotten, lousy, stinker of a day! It was all AT & T, all the time. It's either the most incompetent company in the world or it's run by thugs.
I was told my landline would be made operational at least by 6 pm yesterday and waited in ALL DAY. I called seven or eight times and, counting the times I was put on hold and listened to cockamamie recordings, I wasted hours and hours. I kept being assured they'd be here by six.
They weren't. When I called for the last time at 5:40, I finally got the news that the technician had "put on the ticket" there was a problem he couldn't handle yesterday and he'd have to come back. I was told he had been here at ten am! I was never notified this at the time, not by a knock on the door, a call on my cell, e-mail, carrier pigeon, or any other means. To say I was steaming doesn't even cover my furious response to this.
At one point, I was shuffled over to Susie Mae Beaufort of Hog Jaw Holler--all right, that wasn't her name, but she had a southern accent you could cut with a knife and I could barely understand her. I asked for the complaint department and she gave me a snail mail address; naturally, AT & T wouldn't want to make it easy on the customer, so there is no e-mail place to send it. I had to ask her to repeat, then to spell the words, when she told me it was on "Pie Street" in "Rome." What? It was "Pine Street, in Room 420."
Anyway, I wrote a three-page letter which I'll send when--if--the damn thing is ever fixed. I guess it's now about time to get a smart phone and tell AT & T to go to hell.