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| We have no idea what the two fingers mean. Peace? He drove away before we could ask. |
The highly-recommended replacement of our substandard leased modem with a spiffy big new model went without a hitch, we're happy to report, but just in case, we had put a call in to the Comcast support team. in advance. Didn't want to be caught without worldly contact.
We had just changed the password on the new guest wifi (we were admonished that we had chosen a "weak" password, but don't care, -- if the neighbors hack in, good for them) when a gentleman with a big grin and a pair of blue booties knocked on the front door.
We had him inspect our work, then go unjumble a jumble of cables, using his crimping skills and tools to our full advantage.
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| Chaos of cables gets some calming. |
It was quite reassuring to hear the man nod and cluck and speak with a distinctive accent. Seems like anybody who knows anything high tech doesn't speak like us. Turns out Tullkin is a Russian immigrant. Been here since he was six, his father worked the oil fields of Central Asia. He lives in Burnsville now after moving first from Missouri. Likes his first three months in Minnesota. We took the opportunity to warn him of the impending winter season, but he didn't seem impressed. There's time. They have winters in Moscow, of course.
Note to the ladies: Tullkin is single. He left a card. C Me.
