A little earlier than expected

Rico says the ladyfriend works for a local condo management company and, whenever there's a problem (and there's always a problem), she gets a call. This morning it was about six a.m., when some old rich guy (they're all old rich guys, unless they're old rich women) couldn't get the garage door open. (Everything is fucking electronic now.) Worse yet, she can't make the newly-fixed wireless modem (upon which Rico is transmitting this very post) work.
This is, of course, Rico's fault. (Everything is Rico's fucking fault.)
Ah, well, the start of another perfect day...