Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Excuse Me While I Voice My Opinion

Ahem. I have a little something stuck in my craw. A tiny axe to grind. A miniscule thorn in my side. Someone has given a slight tug to my chain.

I hate to complain. It's so unlike me. But something must be said, on behalf of appointment-schedulers everywhere.

THE YOUNG WHIPPERSNAPPERS RUNNING THE OFFICES THESE DAYS ARE TOTALLY, COMPLETELY, UNEQUIVOCALLY INCOMPETENT ! ! !

There. Somebody had to say it. You're welcome.

Monday morning during my plan time, I called my optometrist to schedule an appointment that I've been putting off since July. The way I see it (heh, heh, I said SEE it when talking about an eye appointment, snort snort), my eyes ain't broken. So they don't need fixin'. But that postcard lays there on the kitchen counter, mocking me, making me feel guilty every time I pick it up and squint at the check-up message.

The office girl pulled up my file to see how long I had been absent from their bank account. She interrogated me for info on both of my insurances. Then she said that she couldn't find insurance on me, and would I be shocked when I came in and the bill was run without insurance? Not at all. I told her I knew this was short notice, but that I was available any time on Thursday. That's how the week works out best with my lessons. I'm a working woman, you know. Not that kind. But I have responsibilities.

Girly said that she had a 2:00 appointment on Thursday. Not what I'd hoped for, but I took it. I even repeated it back to her, and wrote it down. Then I called the office and arranged for a substitute. I typed up Thursday's lesson plan. Informed my students throughout the day that I would be gone. Just so they'd know what to expect. They are creatures of habit. No need to spring any surprises on them.

Today I got home at 4:30 and saw the light flashing on my answering machine. Yes. We still have things like that here in Backroads. It was the optometrist's office, reminding me that I had an appointment tomorrow at 2:00 with Dr. X. Tomorrow is WEDNESDAY! I called them back. Relayed the info about my appointment. Told them in no uncertain terms that I would NOT be there Wednesday at 2:00, because I would be at work. Unlike Thursday, when I would be off. Because I had scheduled a substitute so I could go to my optometrist's appointment.

Girly 2.0 declared that my appointment had been made for Wednesday. I told her I would not be there. She rooted around in her computer, and said that all she had on Thursday was an 8:30 appointment. Perfect. I told her I would be there. For my Thursday appointment. Right? Right? THURSDAY? She assured me that the appointment was for Thursday.

We'll see. I'm not sure these gals grasp the concept of a calendar.

11 comments:

  1. Not unlike when you "reserve" a rental car, only to arrive at the car rental office and find out the car you "reserved" is gone.

    Does Girly 2.0 know the meaning of the word "appointment," I wonder...

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  2. When I rule the world everyone will be competent at their jobs, except for me, of course.

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  3. My optometrist is one of my kampers ...... not only do I not have to worry about appointments (they work around my schedule), she will bring my new galsses to me with all of her tools and fit me right in my own office! Oh, and the very best part? We barter. I get eyecare and she gets a kampsite!

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  4. I feel your pain, Val. There are zillions of Girlys 2.0 all over the world...and Guylys 2.0, also. Stupidity is very high on my list of Things I Can't Tolerate!

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  5. So true and so happening. Without apology, either.

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  6. Sioux,
    That's why you get insurance, and promise the beat the stuffing out of that rental car.

    I don't know. Like...it's only her job to uh...well...MAKE APPOINTMENTS ALL THE LIVELONG DAY! It's not like she's reattaching retinas, or transplanting corneas.

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    Stephen,
    Make sure everyone has a pony, too.

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    Kathy,
    You need a show on TLC. Bartering For Eyecare...and other regulated health services. Please don't tell me that you have a resident gynecologist who services you on the check-in counter. I KNOW this is Missouri, but we must maintain a slim sliver of decorum.

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    Becky,
    I gotta make me one of those lists. I have a little notebook for it.

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    Linda,
    Then let's change it a bit. Incompootent. There. You're welcome.

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    Joanne,
    The whippersnappers don't need to apologize. Because the whippersnapper is always right. Do you watch those shows like Bar Rescue on CMT, and Restaurant Stakeout on the Food Network? Those waitresses will put a receptionist to shame. I'm surprised there's no footage of hair being yanked out by the follicles.

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  7. There ya go, Val! It'll make you feel better just writing 'em down! :)

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  8. Becky,
    Yes. But then I'd have to rip out the list and burn it, lest it fall into the wrong hands.

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  9. Gynecologist? Now that would be off-putting to those trying to register at the desk, don't you think?
    But, a reality show about owning a kampground is not a bad idea. Kamping Gone Krazy?

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  10. Kathy,
    With some of your clientele, I doubt it would be off-putting. Your show would be better than Truck Stop Missouri that was on the Travel Channel. You wouldn't have to stage the crazy antics of your customers.

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