My first call from a collection agency

That's not a nice thing to call lawyers.

 

Hey, at least Hondo's post wasn't his usual anti-Muslim rant.

He's an anti-Canuckite as well.

 

So he does have a good quality.

 

"I don't mind parasites. I object to a cut-rate one."
-- Rick Blaine.

 

As this was a thread started by Jones, I'm surprised the collection agency wasn't a sperm bank.

 

Pastor, that's rude.

So, an update: Talked to my insurance company and they said that they would look into the bill and see if it's legitimate, and if it is, they'll pay it. They suspect, however, that it isn't, in which case they won't pay it and will send a cease and desist letter. And best of all, they said, even if Grant & Weber somehow smudges my credit rating with this horseshit, World Access can have the blemish removed -- they supercede the collections agency. Essentially, I'm bulletproof.

Which means I'm going to have some fun with these douchebags. I'm looking forward to future conversations with Mr. Ross (I got a call today from his colleague, Mr. Campos, that I was sorry to have missed). I will relay them here and hopefully in future issues of Esquire.

And hondo, I'm sorry that you live in a fucked-up country. (How's that for an apology?) If you can't see that it's fucked up to have a doctor hiring muscle to chase someone down for $132 after billing $48,000 and already being paid -- if you think that's good and proper -- then there's nothing I can do for you. I can't think of anyone up here who has ever had to deal with a collections agency, and they certainly haven't had to deal with one hired by a hospital. That's a better way to live and to treat people, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise, so save your toy soldiers for another one of your Internet skirmishes.

Apart from anything else, they dropped my frigging gall bladder on my stomach, giving me a much worse scar than I might have had. (Bile apparently is pretty caustic.) I just said, No worries, accidents happen, which is very Canadian of me. But now I'm thinking it might be time to sue the sons of bitches. See how they like getting muscled.

Anyway, thanks for the offers of support and sympathy, here and via PM, but it's all good. My goal today: Mr. Ross and Mr. Campos end up in tears, realize how hollow their lives are, quit their jobs, and go on to save the world. And that's for starters.

 

I'd just like to say Jones' quest for revenge has made him my hero.

Sir, I am eating some creamed spinach in your honor. And even honour.

That is all.

 

Jones, I suggest you record all future phone calls from the collectors. Not for insurance purposes, but for shits-and-giggles.

 

Hey, don't write about it.
Nobody cares about our problems.

 

I hear what you're saying Fenian, but I wasn't thinking about writing about the problem, but about the fun. If one of these guys goes off, I think that's quality entertainment.

Of course, I think the BME Pain Olympics is quality entertainment, too. So my judgment might not be dead level.

 

Slippery Gall Bladder would be a good name for a band.

 

Don't EVER remind me of BME Pain Olympics again. One of the few things that actually forced me to squirm in my chair while watching. I couldn't even get past the first 3 seconds.