I have always understood the concept of hell — I don't want to go there — and heaven — I have a lot of work to do to get there. Purgatory has always been a fuzzy concept for me until I decided to switch from satellite television to cable. I was one of the first on the block to have that little round dish and always thought, "Why change?" Then the call came. You know the one that pops up on your caller ID. The ID that has you wondering "should I take this?" Why not?

A pleasant young voice offers a deal of a television lifetime. Five hundred channels (including every movie channel in the world), bundled Internet, a digital phone at a locked-in price that saves 20 bucks a month. Dreams of being able to fill up my gas tank with the savings swirl around my head. So I make the switch. Two gentlemen come to install.

For two hours they work on hooking up the television. Next is the high-speed Internet connection. This cannot be done because I have a Mac. You mean a Mac cannot run the Internet? Forget that — with the old system it did just fine.

Since it is now approaching the five-hour mark it is time to say goodbye. Wait, we need money. No one said it must be paid on installation. The amount is three times the quoted special price. Why complain to these guys? They are only the messengers. I can write a check, but the funds will not be available for two weeks.

"No problem," says one.

So (yes, I know it was a stupid move) I hand over a check with a post date. Of course those cable folks put it through right away. The bank fees run over $400.

I call the folks at the cable company. It is the one that merged with the magazine and the Internet service. Nathan answers my call. I explain the situation. His response is, "The Company does not accept postdated checks."

"But you did."

"It is against our policy."

"But you did." This Socratic dialogue lasted about 10 minutes. Now it is time to ask for a supervisor.

"I will not let you talk to a supervisor."

"Excuse me. I want to talk to a supervisor."

"Ma'am, you can talk until you are blue in the face. I am not sending this call to a supervisor. I have made my ruling."

Nathan has never dated me, so talking until I am purple in the face is easy. Finally he agrees to have a supervisor call me.

Karen calls. I explain the situation. I don't want the money back — well, I do but that's not going to happen — so how about a few months of cable service?

Karen repeats that it is not the company policy to take a postdated check.

The "but you did" argument comes out and gets the same results as it did with Nathan. This call ends with "thank you for being a loyal customer. I hope I have solved any of your problems." I am either in a Kafka novel, a Woody Allen movie or purgatory.

I am headed back to my dish.

We still have the Internet issue. So a tech from the cable folks who specializes in the Internet comes to solve the problem. After 20 minutes he proclaims it is Mac's fault. Yes, I will owe for the days it has not been online because it is my fault.

See, I need the Internet. I file my columns on the Internet. I get lots of important information from the networks and PR folks via the Internet. I call an independent contractor who for $100 fixes the problem in 10 minutes. No, it has nothing to do with the Mac; it has to do with the installation.

I have no desire to call the cable company and complain. I do want to keep the Internet connection. Then I get an automated call from the folks at the cable company: We will arrive at your home between noon and 4 tomorrow.

What? That is Yom Kippur, holiest day in the Jewish religion. Remember, I have lots of work to do to get into heaven and skipping temple to have cable work is not the way in. I do not know why they are coming.

So now I call the cable company. Carla explains they need to come to do something with the Internet line. "I won't be here." "You don't have to be." "The call said I did." "I say you don't." "I want to make sure the line is not cut off if I am not here. Could I please talk to a supervisor?" She must have studied under Nathan because she refuses. I cannot talk to anyone above her to make certain I will have still have my Internet connection.

Since I am filing this on a friend's computer I guess Carla was wrong. So the $20 I was going to save each month has now turned into over $500 in fees, which do not include cable service or Internet service. Dreams of having a full tank of gas are pushed forward to 2010.

To find out more about Lynda Hirsch, and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at www.creators.com.

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