Because of doofuses like this…
Me: How are you doing today, Mr. Doe?
John Doe: Fine. But I have a big problem with my retiree medical insurance.
Me: Okay, and what seems to be the problem?
John Doe: I’m afraid that I’m going to lose my coverage.
Me: Well, I show here that you’re covered through the end of this month. The only reason that it wouldn’t continue past that point is if you didn’t send in a check for the next month. Is there a reason that you’re worried about losing your coverage?
John Doe: I received a letter in the mail from Giant Company You Work For that said that since I was 65, I had to do something about Medicare.
Me: Hmm. That doesn’t sound like something that we would send out. Do you still have a copy of the letter?
John Doe: No. I threw it away.
Me: Okay… Can you tell me what the letter said?
John Doe: I don’t remember. Something about being eligible for Medicare and having to do something. There were some instructions. I think they wanted me to send something in.
Me: Did you follow the instructions on the letter?
John Doe: No, I threw it away. I told you.
Me: Alright, well… Do you remember anything else about the letter?
John Doe: It just said that I needed to contact someone if I had questions.
Me: Who did it tell you to contact?
John Doe: There was a phone number.
Me: Did you call it?
John Doe: No. I called you.
The conversation went on like this for a few more minutes, until I finally managed to get Mr. Doe off the phone with a promise that I would try and figure out who sent the letter, what is was and what is needed of him. So I’ve spent the rest of the afternoon calling and emailing people both in and out of the company, pestering them over a letter that doesn’t even exist any more.
I love my job. I love my job. I love my job.
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