Category: Letters

Dear Blue Shield Underwriters,

First of all, let me say you should be grateful that I went to visit a friend before writing this letter.  The one I drafted while in the shower this morning called you assholes instead of underwriters.  Funny how a few laughs will change your attitude.

So, obviously, I received your letter.  The one telling me that after all those personal questions you asked me on a daily basis (for weeks, no, months) finally helped you make a decision on my request to have a lower rating for my health insurance.  The one where you told me that, instead of lowering my rating, you were actually raising it.  Because, apparently, I’m even more of a health risk than you originally realized. 

I mean, that mole I had removed, several years ago, because it was under my bra strap and irritated me?  In retrospect, I really shouldn’t have had my doctor take that off.  I can see why it’s too risky for you, because maybe I really had skin cancer but my doctor and I are covering our tracks with that whole ONE VISIT it took.  Next time, I’ll ask our veterinarian to lob off any annoying moles.  Or better yet, my husband has a pocket knife that would work perfectly.

And thank you for pointing out that I have a bicornuate uterus.  WOW!  I really hadn’t realized.  I thought that whenever my doctor or midwife talked to me about it, they were really talking about someone else.  Bicornuate, who?

What do you mean, it doesn’t matter that I’m not requesting maternity coverage?  Even though we supplied you with letters from doctors and negative sperm count reports, you apparently think that I’m going to go ahead and get pregnant (I’m sure I can find some sperm, somewhere), pay for my high-risk pregnancy out of pocket (with all the cash I’ll have left in my account after paying you over $600 per month in health insurance), give birth to my baby (if the baby makes it to term) and then go ahead and hemorrhage.  Just so I can laugh that evil “mwah ha ha ha” laugh I’ve been practicing, when Blue Shield gets stuck with THAT bill.  Yes, that was my plan.  Thank goodness you caught on to my little scheme.  It really could have cost ya!

Oh, right, and that cosmetic surgery I had done eight years ago.  Were you worried that suddenly Blue Shield would start covering cosmetic surgery and I was going to go nuts and get a new and improved rear end on your dime?  Obviously I’m just so frivolous about my body, getting that surgery done back when I was 22 and not having anything done since.  Yikes, talk about plastic!  Oh and by the way, maybe it might help if you asked why I had it done.  Just to gain a little perspective.

I find it interesting that not once has anyone requested that I take a physical, or asked questions about my weight, diet, exercise regimen, hygiene, dental habits, or about anything else that might give a clue about my actual health and well-being.  Instead, it’s all about things that really don’t pose a risk to Blue Shield at all.

Here’s a letter I would have respected:

Dear Andrea,

We really don’t want to insure you.  Instead of causing you discomfort by digging into your medical history repeatedly, and asking you to supply us with documents that are decades old (man, who knew you actually kept that stuff around, and in a place where you could find it so quickly?) we should have just let you know.  You are welcome to fork over a thousand dollars a month for us to insure your family, or you can just go with another option.  Sorry for wasting months of your time. 

Oh, and sorry we’re still having our staff call you and email you every day for more information!  We forgot to let them know we’d already come to a decision.

Sincerely,
Blue Shield

But hey, Blue Shield Underwriters?   We’re small business owners, and I just finished filling out the paperwork for group coverage.  You’re going to cover me after all, and for a quarter of the cost! 

Who’s laughing now, bitches?  Mwah ha ha ha.

Best,

Andrea

p.s. If you think I’m going to see the doctor over every little sniffle and make you pay for it, you’re damn right.  I’ve got nothing to lose.

Dear Mail Lady Postal Carrier,

My oh my, I am SO flattered that you would drop two tickets for a Caribbean Cruise in my mail box!  I mean, a cruise for ME?  When you had so many other customers you could have handed them off to?  I hardly think my girl scout cookies are worth that, but I’m so touched that you would try and make it up to me in such a nice, thoughtful way.  Of course, I couldn’t keep them.  I think our neighbors, Wesley and Autumn, would miss their cruise tickets a little more than I missed my cookies.  We’d hate for you to get another reprimand from your supervisor, wouldn’t we?   But don’t worry, I dropped the tickets right in their box the next day, so they probably never even missed them.

I also really appreciate you delivering my mortgage statement to someone else.  I almost didn’t notice except that after I paid bills, there was a bit more money in the account than usual.  Again, what a thoughtful person you must be to try and get one of my neighbors to pay my mortgage for me.  They didn’t redirect it, so it’s very possible they are dumb nice enough to send in a payment.  Next time, just go ahead and deliver it to me though, OK? 

One last thing, and this might hurt a little.  I’ve been having the UPS guy deliver my packages.  Now, don’t get upset.  He’s just so nice about it, and comes to the door and everything.  Sometimes, if a package is heavy or I’m holding the baby, he even carries the package inside and sets it wherever I’d like.  I wanted you to hear it directly from me, so there aren’t any hard feelings.

I’ll be seeing you,
Andrea

Dear Mail Lady  Postal Carrier,

I’ll get right to the point and say, I know I’ve been a difficult customer and I don’t mean to be.  I can understand why you might have sensed some hositility from me, what with me getting upset with you for honking your horn like you were stuck in a New York Traffic Jam every time you came here to deliver a package.  It’s just that I have a baby who takes a nap every afternoon, and you have a knack for showing up just a few minutes after she’s fallen asleep.  I meant it when I said I didn’t mind coming to you to get the package if you would kindly honk only once.  But you must have misunderstood.  I didn’t mean I’d come to the post office.  I shop online to avoid dragging my kids all over town and if I have to go to the post office every time I get a package, it kind of defeats the purpose.  I would have talked to you directly about it, but you seemed to be avoiding my driveway.  So, sorry if I got you in any trouble when I complained to your supervisor.  Oh, and then, sorry if I got you in trouble, again, the following week.  But when I told your supervisor it was OK with me for you to leave packages on the sidwalk so you didn’t have to walk the 10 feet to my door, I kind of expected you to place the package on the sidewalk.  Do you have a second career as a paper delivery person?  ‘Cause you totally nailed the sidwalk at, what, 15 miles per hour? Or was it more like 20?  I tried to flag you down, but you must not have seen me in the rear view.  Don’t worry though, those crystal vases were double insured, so no harm done.

Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for any misunderstanding there may have been, and ask you to help me locate a package I’ve been expecting.  I ordered some Girl Scout Cookies from my friend Tana’s daughter back in January, see.  I got a box for the kids, a box for my husband, and a box or 6 for myself.  I even lost a few pounds in anticipation of eating those boxes guilt-free when they arrived.  Tana emailed, oh, about 3 weeks ago and said she’d be mailing them out.  Every day, I trot down the the mailbox.  As yet, there is no package.  I’d ask Tana to clarify the mailing date, but she went to Las Vegas for the week because she’s a fabulous photographer, and I just know she wouldn’t up and leave without sending me my ‘scout cookies.  And I probably could have waited for her return.  It’s just that… it’s almost the end of March and ‘scout cookies, as you may know, only come around once a year.

I spotted some brown flecks that had a hint of chocolatey, minty goodness to them on my phone bill yesterday.  I may or may not have licked it (for clarification purposes) to be sure.  And, mail lady,  postal carrier, there is only one person who could have been dropping thin mint crumbs on my mail.  If you surrender the rest of the boxes on the door step, maybe we can be friends.

Sincerely Yours,
Andrea