For the Weekend:"...the American id in its underpants"

I Was A Cable Guy. I Saw The Worst Of America. By Lauren Hough.

A glimpse of the suburban grotesque, featuring Russian mobsters, Fox News rage addicts, a caged man in a sex dungeon, and Dick Cheney.

I heartily recommend reading this, quite long, piece. the writer has an engaging style, it even got past my Attention Deficit Disorder, brought on by too much internet.

When I first read the title I had the job of a cable guy mixed up with a 'lineman's' (as in "Wichita......"). Those guys deserve far more appreciation than they get. It didn't take long to realise that 'cable guy' is a different job, though with its own set of difficulties and dangers.

Tiny snip:

Maybe the next job that day was the guy whose work order said “irate.” It’s not something you want to see on a work order. Not when you’re running late and you still have to pee, because “irate” meant that the next job wasn’t going to be a woman in lingerie; it was going to be a guy who pulled out his penis while I fixed the settings on his television.

I know after that one, I pulled off the side of the road when I saw a horse. Only upside of Great Falls. Not too long ago, Great Falls was mostly small farms and large estates. The McMansions outnumber the farms now. But there are still a few holdouts. I called the horse over to the fence, and he nuzzled my hair. I fed him my apple. Talking to a horse helps when you can’t remember how to breathe.