Calling to make the appointment has to be the best part about it. There’s nowhere to go to make the call in the first place, so I ultimately hike around my office building during a break trying to find a place where I can have a semi-private conversation without looking like I’m waiting on an 8ball. Then, once I get through the hold music and a few transfers cause, ya know, schedulers need breaks too, I get someone capable of typing my numbers into a computer. Then start the rounds of personal information, which I get to spout in a public place tring act like its not my date of birth, or my social security number or anything ya know, sensitive. Seriously, if I wanted to commit identity theft, I’d find a chick tucked into a corner on her cigarette break and just listen. Bet I’d get at least half of the personal stuff I need, know where she lives, who she’s dating, AND whether or not she has the herp. Ugh. My favorite moment of today’s call was when the scheduler asked, “Has it been a year since you last appointment?”
No lady. I just like being used as a human sock puppet and calling you is cheaper than maxing out my Visa on 16th and Mission. Got anything for tomorrow afternoon?
Please. ..?
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