This is the hole above the open-air hallway* outside our apartment into which workers disappear when they are trying to fix something.
And that is what one does if one wants to fix the broken fucking wireless connection himself, instead of waiting 24 hours as we have done aproximately ELEVENTY-MILLION TIMES THIS WEEK.
*Hallway? In whose world is this a hallway? It's freaking OPEN AIR. I call it a hallway for the simple reason that I cannot think of a more appropriate term. This is where I live now. These people have no idea what cold is. They think they do, but they don't. I wear shorts in their motherfucking "cold" weather. And I die repeated deaths in their "warm". It's a trade-off, really.
Also, this Internet Repairman who lives in our house now? If there are any single girls out there who've had it up to HERE with guys who talk talk talk and apply no action to their lives, this particular Internet Repairman is entirely different. When the internet went down today, he took out the trash. Let me repeat that, he TOOK OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING TRASH.
For serious. Best Internet Repairman Ever. I can totally hook you up.