I have been running to the mailbox each and every day like Ralphie from “A Christmas Story” awaiting the coveted Little Orphan Annie decoder ring.
Every day, I have come away dejected. Bills, catalogs, junk mail addressed to “Resident,” and people who are utterly convinced that I want to give them money out of the goodness of my heart. Won’t you help us, they implore. Our organization of specialized servicepeople not only ensure that your house is protected from marauding bands of child-eating landsharks, but we care deeply about one-armed pygmy refugees in third world countries. It costs just pennies a day to support us, and if you don’t, locusts will be arriving shortly along with telegrams reading “We told you so.”
Today was different, though. Today, the mailbox was full.
I expected to be thrilled. At last! My decoder ring!
Wait, no. I wasn’t actually waiting for a decoder ring. I was waiting for the check from my insurance company for my car. And there it was! In all its glory! With lots of zeroes!
I should’ve been happy. Really, I was happy. For a few minutes. I remembered that I was going to have to send all of that money (and then some) away, but I already made my first month’s car payment, so I can pretend to be rich for a month, I guess.
And then I turned to the rest of the mail. Why did I have all of these OTHER envelopes from my insurance company? Hmmmm.
Oh. Claim updates for each member of the family. Okay, then. Everything was approved. Yay!
Except. Oh, look at that. Those “free” initial evaluations the chiroquactor did on the kids? Charged at 3 times his regular rate?
Maybe I shouldn’t care. It’s not coming out of MY pocket. But I do care and I’m pissed.
I’m really looking forward to my appointment there on Monday. Let’s lay odds, shall we? My guess is that the Happy Shiny Secretary will fall all over herself telling me that it was just a billing error and they’ll fix it right away. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t notice since I’m not paying.
It’s too bad, because the treatments have been incredibly helpful. But I’m sure there are other helpful chiroquactors out there who, you know, have a lower sleaze factor. And wear normal shoes.