Daniel Calls His Internet Provider

Daniel's internet usually worked perfectly. That was important because he worked from home, and without the internet, he couldn't do his job.

But this week, something was wrong. Every evening, at around six o'clock, the connection stopped. Sometimes it came back after ten minutes. Sometimes it didn't come back for an hour. On Wednesday, it stopped in the middle of a video call with a client, and Daniel's face froze on the screen with his mouth open.

That was enough. On Thursday morning, he picked up his phone and called his internet provider.

A friendly robot voice answered. "Welcome. Please listen carefully, as our options have changed. For new customers, press one. For billing, press two. For technical help, press three."

Daniel pressed three.

"Thank you. All our team members are busy. Your call is important to us. You are number eight in the line."

Soft piano music started to play. Daniel put the phone on speaker and made a coffee. Biscuit sat on the table and watched the phone as if the music came from a small animal inside it.

After twenty minutes, a real person answered.

"Good morning, my name is Ben. How can I help you today?"

"Good morning," Daniel said. "I'm having a problem with my internet connection. It keeps stopping, mostly in the evening."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Can I have your account number, please?"

Daniel read the number from an old letter. Ben typed for a moment.

"Thank you, Daniel. When did the problem start?"

"About a week ago. It stops every evening, around six, for ten minutes or sometimes longer. During the day, it's mostly fine."

"Okay. Have you tried turning your router off and on again?"

Daniel smiled a little. He was a developer. He had tried everything.

"Yes, I have. I've restarted it many times, and I've also checked all the cables. The lights on the router look normal."

"That's very helpful, thank you," Ben said. "Let me run a quick test on your line. It will take about two minutes."

Daniel waited. Biscuit walked across the table and sat on the old letter.

"Okay," Ben said. "I can see the problem. Your line is losing the signal several times a day, and it's worse in the evening, when more people in your area are online. It's probably a problem with the cable outside your building, not inside your home."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Not really. We need to send an engineer to check the line. Would that be okay?"

"Yes, please. When is the earliest time someone can come?"

"Let me check. We have Monday morning, between eight and twelve. Does that work for you?"

"Monday morning is fine."

"Great. I've booked it for you. Here's your reference number. Do you have a pen?"

Daniel took a pen and wrote it down. "Could you repeat the last part, please?"

Ben said it again, slowly, and Daniel checked every number.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Ben asked.

"No, that's everything. Thank you for your help, Ben."

"You're welcome. Have a good day."

On Monday, at half past nine, the engineer arrived. She opened a grey box on the street outside Daniel's building, looked inside for a few minutes and laughed.

"Here's your problem," she said. She showed him an old cable. The plastic around it was broken, and water was getting in. "Every evening, when it gets colder, it stops working properly."

She changed the cable in twenty minutes.

That evening, at six o'clock, Daniel sat at his desk and waited. Six o'clock. Ten past six. Half past six.

The internet worked perfectly.

Biscuit, who did not care about the internet at all, fell asleep on his keyboard.