DATELINE Tuesday, Dec. 29, 2015: Several years ago, when the leventy-leventh foreign sounding voice called to get us to switch telephone companies, I thought I was enormously clever when I said into the handset, “I’m so sorry, but we don’t have a telephone.” There was dead silence followed by the click of disconnect and we have never been bothered since by that particular telemarketing scam.

Yesterday, we got our comeuppance. We were told in all seriousness by our telephone provider (who shall remain nameless) that we have no phone line. He delivered that startling bit of news on the telephone. On our landline.

“Then how are you talking to me?” my ever-patient husband asked.

“I don’t know,” was the response.

At issue (at least, to begin with) was our internet connection which disappeared two weeks ago. We called our provider (on our land line) to request help. Not only were we told, during the seven hours we were on the telephone, that we do not have a phone line, we were also told that our internet connection (which is a fiber-optics-something-or-other and comes to us through our phone line) is working fine. Huh?

Internet access is precisely what we don’t have and is why we placed this call in the first place. We’ve had our internet service with the same company for more than twenty years. Ditto our landline service. Suddenly, all communication has relegated itself to BabbleSpeak.

We were directed (via our non-existent telephone) that we needed a new modem. Never mind that our existing modem is less than two years old. We rushed right out and plunked out $153 and change for a new modem (exactly like the old modem) and (through our non-existent phone line) were instructed in how to configure it with PPO codes etc. It did not work.

Our not-to-be-named telephone provider then tried valiantly (via our non-existent telephone) to sell us internet service which, of course, they had told us repeatedly we already have and, additionally, that it is working perfectly. This sales pitch was delivered to us by an oxymoronic “customer support” person – the final person we spoke to in our seven-hour ‘trouble-shooting’ marathon.

I should never have joshed about not having a telephone all those years ago. Obviously, it has come back to bite me big time. Meanwhile… I’m enjoying the ambiance here at the Ocean Park Timberland Library while I post my blogs of yesterday and today. And, for all of you well-meaning folks who always have solutions to our problems… thank you but don’t bother. We are off the grid.