So, Rachel and I move into our new apartment, a unit in a heritage building in Ottawa. It has been vacant for some time, due to renovations, and it appears that between seeing the apartment in August and now, the power has been shut off. Having moved all of our boxes into the apartment, I duly call Ottawa Hydro and ask them to recommence our juice. A slow, thick voice answers.

"It's the long weekend sir. We don't do regular residential service until Tuesday." It is presently Saturday.

"So you're telling me that I can't cook, have a hot shower, be aware of the time, or see after dark until Tuesday?"

"Sorry sir."

"Uh, yeah. So if nobody is working, then why are you answering the phone?"

"Well, for emergencies sir."

Emergencies? If power outage doesn't count, then what, I wonder allowed, does Ottawa Hydro consider an emergency? Lightning shooting from the walls?

"Sorry sir. We can't start new residential accounts right now."

It has long been my policy that if things aren't working out, you're only talking to the wrong person. I call these people worker bees. Following the analogy, I needed to find the queen bee.

"Hello, Ottawa Hydro."

"Yes, uh, I have an emergency."

"Ok, sir. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, my power seems to have gone out."

Within 45 minutes, an Ottawa Hydro van arrived, union labour and all. Before the hour passed, our oven was working, our water was heating up, and we could see again.