Joining the 21st century

Finally having high-speed internet is like leaving the dark ages behind.

The customer service guy couldn't have given us a more pitiful look if he'd tried. "Do you know the internet speed you've been on for the past three years?"

"Er no, is it a bit rubbish?"

"It's 128 kilobytes per second."

"Right, a bit rubbish then?"

"Yes."

We'd come to upgrade our internet package, not to be laughed at. But, to be fair to the chap now sniggering to himself while tapping details into his terminal, we'd known that our connection wasn't the best. We had just somehow become used to YouTube clips taking around half an hour to load up or a video download needing two overnight sessions. We didn't really think we were as behind the technology times as we actually were.

But then, just two days later, with a small box screwed to the wall by two guys with a bag of spanners and some rather pungent footwear, everything, and I mean everything changed. We had internet. And we had it screaming into our flat at a rate of eight whacking great megabytes per second and I cannot begin to describe how it felt (OK, I'll try). It was almost as though we'd previously been cloaked in darkness, talking in slow motion and banging our heads on cupboard doors, and suddenly somebody had found the light switch.

Within an instant, lovely BBC internet radio was filling the lounge, uninterrupted and free from the continual "rebuffering" or "do you want to use a lower-bandwidth service" messages that had haunted previous attempts.

I soon started downloading more music than I'd ever downloaded before (and spending a small fortune in the process), simply because an album took 20 minutes rather than 20 hours.

It was as though the end of civilisation was around the corner and I might have to start my own fallout radio station once the dust had settled. Films too, plus games, programmes, everything I could find were gobbled up. We even had two computers - two! - on the go at the same time, with us both able to send e-mails and untag ourselves from embarrassing Facebook photo albums without one of us having to disconnect first so they didn't crash. It really was amazing.

Having loudly and with animated arms described my new-found happiness to friends for some weeks now, I've discovered that most of you out there have been enjoying such internet abilities since the 18th century.

I don't mind being so technologically backward. It means I get to be all excited by things while everyone else is simmering in boredom.

But next time, when you're all lapping up some futuristic webular service, can somebody please tell me? Just so I don't get laughed at by guys in customer service.