Nothing Is Quite Simple For Val

I'm late! I'm late! For a very mediocre or possibly even sub-par blog post. But I have a good excuse.

I WAS HELD HOSTAGE BY CEILINGREDS!

Oh, my insurance woes never cease. At least I've been getting my medication on a timely basis. However...one of the prescriptions is only available at CeilingReds, and it costs me three bills. Not Washingtons. Not Lincolns. Not Hamiltons. We're talking Jacksons! It's been that way for several months. Every time, the CeilingReds staff asks if I'm using the proper insurance card. Yes. Yes I am. One time they tried to run my secondary insurance card, but ended up telling me that their system won't let them bill a secondary insurance. So imagine my surprise today when the Window Gal asked for my secondary card.

I was in a hurry, you see, having just come from a nice visit with my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel on the school parking lot. The plan was to pick up that prescription, then head over to the dead-mouse-smelling post office before it closed at 4:30 to pick up a package. I left plenty of time for my two errands. Or so I thought.

Fortune smiled upon me in the guise of an empty CeilingReds drive-thru lane. I had my three bills at the ready. I announced my name. Spelled it, even. Kept one eye on the clock. Window Gal asked if I was using the correct insurance card. I verified my primary. She frowned at her computer. I could see her through the bulletproof glass. Then she wanted my secondary card. I put it through the metal drawer. Time was ticking. A car pulled in behind me. Time marched on. A truck lined up behind the car. Time began to limp. Ten minutes had passed. I really needed to get out of there.

"I'll just pay for it. I've got to be somewhere else. I've been here quite a while. Just give me back my insurance card." Window Gal did not react. She squinted at her screen. She called over another staffer. I was getting agitated. I pecked on the bulletproof glass. I pushed the call button. Window Gal picked up the phone receiver. "I'll just pay. I don't have time for this today. I need to get to Backroads before 4:30." Window Gal pushed out the metal drawer. I put my three bills inside. She sucked it back in.

The truck guy squealed his tires and backed up, then barreled around the drive-thru, slowing down to glare at me like a madman. "I don't know what YOU'RE staring at!" I hollered. "It's not like I WANT to be here. I'm trying to leave!" Huh. He kept glaring, then sped around the corner. The car behind me also went around. Too bad, so sad. I've been stuck at the drive-thru before. But now it was different. I wanted to drive off. BUT CEILINGREDS NOW HAD MY INSURANCE CARD AND MY THREE BILLS, while I had nothing. Not even a person to hear my demands.

I pushed the call button again. "I REALLY need to leave. Just send out my medicine and my insurance card. I'll deal with this another time." Five minutes later, I got my goods. Window Gal explained that their system in unable to bill a secondary insurance. JUST LIKE THEY SAID A COUPLE OF MONTHS AGO! I wish they'd get their act together. And not cost me twenty minutes and a possible drive-thru-rage attack.

The dead mouse was gasping its last breath when we arrived.