Two weeks ago, Ernie called me up to tell me that PG&E finally agreed to come to the house and hook up that additional electrical line. It would be on a Friday, February 3rd, a full 5 weeks after construction had been finished.
Ernie had related to me, time after time, about his difficulties in reaching them. He'd book an appointment time only to find out later that the computer didn't record the time. After getting the appointment time and have no one acknowledge his message or show up, he'd call and leave a voicemail, a vain attempt in trying to get to talk to a live person. He finally got an appointment for Friday.
Nobody showed up. Nobody called. At 4:45 pm, after sitting in the house all day, I finally called Ernie to tell him that there's only half an hour left until the sun goes down. I don't think they're coming. He verbally blew his stack.
A week later he called me to tell me that we're on again, this time for today, Friday, February 10th.
Every time I hear one of those friendly PG&E ads on the radio or on T.V., I just want to puke.
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