You Can’t Insure Against Evil

, , , , , | Healthy | September 22, 2019

(A young woman pulls up to the drive-thru pharmacy to pick up Ritalin for her son, who is sitting in the backseat. The medication isn’t ready so I check the system and see that the insurance isn’t covering it. A reason is usually provided, but not in this case.)

Evil Mom: “That makes no sense. We always get it filled here and there’s never a problem. The insurance covers everything.” *classic line with pharmacy customers who think insurance is magic and has no limitations*

Me: “I understand. But I just tried to run it through the insurance and they rejected it without giving a reason why. Would you be able to call them?”

Evil Mom: “Okay, I’ll call right now.” *looks at her insurance cards angrily* “So, what’s the number?”

Me: *confused why she thinks I know the number off the top of my head* “There should be a customer service number on the back of the card.”

Evil Mom: *still angry* “Member services?”

Me: “Yes.”

(She calls and remains sitting in the single-lane driveway, blocking a line of cars with no regard for the other people who came for their medications.)

Me: “Could you pull around the store to make the call?”

Evil Mom: “I’m not leaving this spot until I get my son’s meds.”

(The pharmacist comes over.)

Pharmacist: *friendly* “I’m sorry, but would you be able to—”

Evil Mom: *without looking at us* “I’m not leaving.” *rolls the window up in our faces*

(The pharmacist curses under her breath and leaves to help other customers. The mom reaches someone from the insurance company and puts the window back down. For fifteen minutes, I listen to her scream at the representative. The whole store can hear her through the drive-thru dropping profuse F-bombs and bullying the rep. Her son is fidgeting in the back seat, but sadly, he doesn’t look surprised by this behavior.)

Evil Mom: “Why isn’t my son’s medication covered? You are supposed to cover it and he needs this! What is your name? Okay. And what is your last name? ‘L’ is your last name? Wow. That’s a weird last name. Then give me your employee number. What do you mean, you don’t have numbers? So, how does your company have you on file? Give me your information. You know what? Nevermind. I want to speak to a manager. Now.”

(A car behind her honks.)

Other Customer: *shouting forward* “What’s going on? It’s been almost half an hour! Just go inside!”

Evil Mom: *shouting back* “SHUT THE F*** UP!”

(Eventually, the cars behind her begin leaving the line. None of them come inside the store. Mom, still on the phone, throws a discount prescription card and her welfare card at me and looks expectant. I return a blank look.)

Evil Mom: *pleasant voice* “I’m waiting for you.”

Me: *confused as to what she expects me to do, since the insurance issue has not been resolved* “Did they put the claim through? If so, I can try to re-run it.”

Evil Mom: *arrogantly* “Just run the cards and give me the medication. I’m going to pay the same amount as I did last time. Use the cards I just gave you and give me his pills.”

Me: “It still has to go through the insurance first.”

(The mom continues screaming obscenities simultaneously at the phone and now at me. The pharmacist comes over again and takes charge of the situation.)

Pharmacist: “You need to stop talking like that to our staff. You’re cursing and insulting us. We don’t need that. In the future, I think you need to use a different pharmacy.”

Evil Mom: *in a weirdly amused way* “Who are you even? I didn’t ask you anything.”

(The pharmacist and I are fed up. I look back and see that the store manager has been listening to everything in the background. The pharmacist tries to run the medication through the insurance again but the rejection is still coming up.)

Pharmacist: “The insurance is still not going through. We’ve done what we can. The cash price is $130 and we can fill it for you.”

(The mom sped away in a flash without another word. We were surprised she didn’t curse us out one more time. We anticipate that she has already called corporate to tell them we are horrible people preventing her from getting her son’s medication. The store manager who overheard said she will vouch for us. If that evil mom knew how to be patient and work with people, there is a chance she could have gotten her son’s medication filled. I feel really bad for that kid.)

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Unable To Disable Nana’s Thinking

, , , , , | Related | July 18, 2019

(I’m disabled. I have a disability permit that is displayed in my car for parking, but I’ve had car issues so that’s at the garage. My nana has given me a lift to do the food shop. She stops to park in a disability spot.)

Me: “Oh, Nana, we can’t park here.”

Nana: *sweet nana voice* “But you’re disabled.”

Me: “Yes, but I don’t have my permit with me to display.”

Nana: *confused nana voice* “But you’re disabled?”

Me: “But Nana, this spot is for blue badge holders only, and I don’t have my blue badge.”

(Nana considers this, and then pulls into the spot.)

Me: “Nana! You’ll get a fine!”

Nana: *angry Nana voice* “But you’re disabled!”

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Smoking Will Kill You

, , , , , , | Right | March 30, 2019

(So far, the refund of a faulty petrol-powered hedge trimmer has been going normally. The item has been deemed faulty by an expert, and the customer has his receipt and has been pleasant throughout. However, there is a problem: for legal reasons we cannot accept the hedge trimmer until the petrol has been drained out it. This has to be done by the customer offsite and into a fuel can for safety reasons. I explain this to the customer, and he appears to understand and walks off. I’m just serving the next customer when, out of the corner of my eye, I witness this customer pouring petrol into a PAPER CUP, which is in turn balanced precariously on top of the cigarette bin at the entrance to the store.)

Me: “Stop! Stop! For the love of God stop!”

Customer: “Why? What am I doing?”

Me: “I said for you to empty that offsite into an appropriate container! And look what it’s on!”

(The customer begins to slowly read the words, “Please extinguish your cigarette here.”)

Customer: “Oh. I didn’t realise what you meant.”

(After this, we now make sure that customers take such items away before serving the next customer.)

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Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 20

, , , , , | Legal | February 27, 2019

(I park in the disabled bay in front of the office like I do every morning. I’m disabled and have a blue badge on display in the car. I notice a laminated sign someone has stuck on the end of the space saying, “Pregnant employees ONLY.” Figuring it has blown over from one of the regular parking bays I just put it carefully to one side and go into work. Coming out later that afternoon I find a parking ticket on my car! I take it into the security office and say this is obviously a mistake.)

Me: “Okay, think you got the wrong car, mate. I’m in the disabled bay with a disabled permit, so I’ve not done anything wrong.”

Security: “Did you see the sign this morning? ‘Pregnant employees only.’ You’re going to have to park in that disabled bay over the road.”

(It’s a four-lane dual carriageway.)

Me: “Is someone in the office disabled due to being pregnant or something?”

Security: “No, but she wants a guaranteed parking spot close to the building, so we’re using the disabled bay for now.”

Me: “I’m not paying this fine, you know, and I’m going to keep parking in that bay unless someone else has a disabled permit. If they do, then we can talk and work something out about sharing the car space.”

Security: “You keep parking there and we’ll tow your car. We’ve blocked it off for her use only.”

Me: “Let’s see how well that goes when I get the police involved for illegally towing a disabled person’s car. Just block off one of the regular bays if you really have to!”

Security: “No. We’ve chosen this one. You need to park elsewhere.”

Me: “Up yours!”

(Yeah, kind of lost my temper at the end there. I’m not paying the fine, and I will raise absolute chaos if anything happens to my car. We’ll see how this goes.)


Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 19

Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 18

Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 17

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Pawn Shop Prices Are A Steal But The Stock Isn’t

, , , , | Legal Right | December 4, 2018

(Our particular location is in one of the poorest cities in the US, so we act as more of a pawn shop. Our store takes trades on iPads, iPhones, etc. On a pretty slow day, a young couple comes in:)

Male Customer: “Hey, I wanted to trade some of my stuff for cash. Y’all do that here?”

Me: *motioning toward the cases of used iPhones, iPads, and iPods behind me* “Yes, sir. What do you have for me today?”

Female Customer: “He got a bunch of phones.”

(The man puts a garbage bag on the counter and dumps it out, revealing what has to be about 25-30 phones. Some of them are flip-phones, a few are Apple products, and others seem to be low-end smartphones. We can only take Apple products, so I make two piles; one with iPhones, and the other phones in a separate pile.)

Me: *pointing to the six iPhones in a pile* “I can only trade these phones today, because we can only take Apple products, but check back with us in a month or so and we might be able to trade the others then. Also, I can only trade one phone per transaction. Were you trading these for store credit or for cash today? You’ll always get more store credit than cash.”

Male Customer: “Um…”

Female Customer: “He don’t play video games no more! And you mean you gotta ring each one, one-at-a-time?!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, but it’s store policy. I have to make a copy of the driver’s license or state ID of the person trading it each time for our records. So each phone has its own transaction.”

Male Customer: “You gotta have an ID to trade this s***?! That’s f****** stupid, man!”

Me: “Well, that’s actually state law, sir. Whenever you trade an item that can be insured, you have to show identification in case the property is reported stolen or missing. Phones can be insured. And our store policy states that if we trade anything for cash, an ID copy is required. Do you not have an ID?”

Male Customer: *to his girlfriend* “Babe, just use your ID. You know I can’t use mine.”

Female Customer: “H***, naw! I ain’t puttin’ my info in his system for your stolen-a** phones!”

Me: “Excuse me, did you just say these were stolen phones?”

(They both look at each other and back at me. In unison, they both say, “No, no, no. We bought them from my brother in New York, and they were stolen at one time, but the cases were dismissed.)

Me: “I can’t take these, then.”

Male Customer: “C’mon, man, don’t be a b****. Just ring ’em up; why’s it matter what they are?”

Me: “Because if they’re stolen then I’ve given you money for something that will be seized by the police when they come in this week to pick up our ID copies and serial numbers of the phones we traded. So [Store] would have paid…” *I look down at the phones and guess their total value* “…[total], for absolutely zero inventory. That’s why.”

Female Customer: “I told you, fool!”

Male Customer: *putting all of the phones back in his garbage bag* “Man, f*** this place! This is some bull-s***!”

(They then stormed out of the store and got in their car, of which I could see the license plate from the front windows. I wrote down the plate number and called the police, because I know how much it can suck to have your phone stolen. They were arrested at another location of the same company I worked for that same day, trying to trade in the same phones.)

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