It’s 4 a.m. and time for bed. I put down my used copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and roll off my couch.

Just one thing left to do before I pass out – stagger to my computer to leave the nightly away message. But lo and behold, my Internet connection is down. There’s nothing to do about it tonight, so I’ll try again in the morning.

I wake up at nine and my Internet is still down. I have officially been signed off for five hours. My mother calls. She’s formed a search party and is scouring the Quad for my body. I assure her I’m alive and that I’ve just been having Internet problems. Trying to fix it now would force me to miss my first class. Tempting, but my New Year’s resolution was to not be on academic probation this semester, so I suck it up and go.

I come back to the dorms and check again. The connection seems OK, and my roommate’s Internet is up and running. Our combined four years of college education are no match for the enigma that is the Syracuse University Internet. This looks like a job for Computing and Media Services!

I dial the number and think back to all the wonderful memories we have shared together. Like the time my screen froze for two days in the middle of a pirated version of ‘Old School.’ (How’d that get there?) Or the 20 times last semester when my screen went blue, leaving no sign of the WRT105 paper I was working on. Those were the days.

But wait a minute. CMS didn’t fix those problems, because CMS sucks. Instead I had to rely on the weird kid down the hall who played ‘Starcraft’ a little too much.

Despite all of my experience with CMS, I decided to give them another chance. It’s a whole new year, so maybe their new staff wasn’t trained on Etch A Sketches.

The phone rings once, twice, 14 times – the suspense is mind-blowing. Finally, someone picks up. No, wait, that’s an automated answering machine directing me to another extension. My hopes are dashed, but I’m not giving up yet. I linger on the line as my call is transferred, and again it seems somebody is actually in the office to answer my call.

‘Your call is forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system. The mailbox belonging to Computing and Media Services is full. To disconnect, press one…’

Now, my Internet is working perfectly. Not because a helpful CMS representative rescued me in my time of need, but because I took matters into my own hands. While my roommate was asleep, I stole his Ethernet cable and plugged it into my computer.

Don’t worry, buddy, I already called your mom.

Eric Grzymkowski is a sophomore television, radio and film major. E-mail him at emgrzymk@syr.edu.

Published on September 22, 2004 at 12:00 pm