{The rambling is intentional..lol}
For the second Month in a row my $901.20 Social Security check did not arrive.
Now that was a bit of a problem, it also meant the Medicare payment wasn't taken out of my check, which I also discovered when the receptionist asked me for payment after my Doctors office visit.
The receptionist looked at me like she didn't believe me when I told her to see my wife Debra. Hell, Debra was just down the hall in one of the other rooms with a patient.
"Oh, OK." The lady said once she figured out that Debra really is my wife. Every time I go in there they have some different old lady behind the desk, I am not sure why.
That's a pain in the ass. I asked Debra about that once, she just told me it was training so that all the clerks can get used to all of the system.
It's also a bit of a pain in the behind to have to see a different Doctor since my wife is one of those registered Nurse Practitioners. Ethics or some crap like that, that doesn't make sense to me either.
It's a bunch of crap to have to pay to see my wife Debra's office partner when I have a perfectly good medical professional in bed with me every night.
Of course when I did finally get in there to see the other lady, she had me in a gown and my dick in her hand before I hardly got settled.
Curious to see what Debra had managed to catch I guess, since the wife is more than twenty years younger than me.
The lady Doctor probably figured I must have one of those five dollar foot longs to catch Debra's interest, that's what I told the wife anyway.
All she did was laugh at that.
"More like $3.50 and seven inches!" She giggled.
"She stuck her finger up my butt, now I don't have any secrets at all!" I managed a pretend moan.
Debra giggled and rolled her eyes at me, then headed for the kitchen.
I suppose she had to probe me, I am 68 now and when I go to take a leak it comes out a drop at a time usually, sometimes I am in there 15 minutes. I get done or think I have and I make it maybe 20 steps and have to turn around and go back.
That means on goes the rubber glove and up my butt, I have had so many fingers up my behind the last year of so I am actually getting used to it!
I can't say as I like that much.
Well. Maybe a little bit.
Anyway, I called the Social Security office, I didn't even know which one, I found the number in the phone book. I was wanting to know where my check was. Damn government anyway, they couldn't run a single seat pay toilet, this isn't rocket science. Send my check to my account so I can spend the damn money, what's the big deal?
Easy stuff, it's how our economy works! The government gives us money, we spend the money, then the government takes it all back in taxes from the places we spent it.
Then they just send it out again, that way we never run out, right?
Right.
The lady tapped on her computer, I could hear that in the background.
Then there was a long disconcerting silence.
"That account has been discontinued, Mr. Magnusan has passed away." She said.
"I sure hope not, because I am Dan Magnusan." I told her, thinking this was some kind of a lame joke.
There was quite a conversation after that, which ended poorly. Numbers, that is today's world, everything and everyone is just numbers.
"I am sorry, there is nothing I can do!" and the line went dead.
I said some choice words, on the loud side I guess since Debra came out of the kitchen.
"What's wrong, honey?" She asked.
"The government still says I am dead."
"What? That has to be a mistake, some kind of clerical error, you look pretty alive to me." She grinned. That was probably the 3rd or 4th time we had had that same conversation.
"It isn't funny, they won't send me my money and they canceled my insurance."
"I will check into that at the office tomorrow, we have your records there. It should be easy to fix."
Government? Easy?
Yea, sure.
I had a sinking feeling about that.
I called Fargo, North Dakota, which is where the main Social Security office is out here.
I know damn good and well why it is there, too. It's cold as hell there, so it will be a cold day in hell before anyone can get anything fucking done at all!
"Tap tap tap tap." I heard in the background. Then the lady had that tone in her voice like I was interfering with her online video poker game or something.
Same answer.
"There is nothing I can do."
That night in bed I was still so upset that I couldn't manage to get it up, even after Debra oiled up her big boobs and wrapped them around me. The dang thing just kind of squeezed out from underneath.
"Maybe you are dead!" Debra laughed. I didn't find that one bit funny either.
+++
The next day Debra got home from the clinic.
"I don't get it, all of our records are in order." She told me.
"Say, did you check at the hospital? I was in there overnight 4 months ago for that damn bleeding ulcer. Probably some clerk over there butter fingered the report. I seem to remember the old guy two doors down kicked the bucket and they were trying to give me his medicine the whole damned time I was in there."
"I will check on that tomorrow, and I already paid the insurance for you. They should refund that once we get this sorted out."
I nodded.
Yea, sure, the government sends out refunds.
+++
The next day I waited in line for an hour, finally getting up to the counter at records. A bored looking woman sat there staring at a computer screen over the top of a cheap pair of reading glasses.
I swear she must have weighed around 350 pounds, plus she had on a blouse that displayed about two feet of cleavage like they were cute or something.
They were so big and stuck up so high I was thinking she had a couple of 2 by 4's underneath them for braces.
That stuff doesn't interest me much, but I did stand on tiptoe to get a better look. I couldn't quite see her nipple, though.
"What?" I asked when I realized she was asking me something.
"Account number please?" She asked again. Big grin on her face too, she had caught me taking a look.
After giving her my Social Security and telling her the problem, she typed in the number.
"I am sorry, you are dead, sir." She said.
Honest to God, word for word.
"Well, I ain't, it has to be a mistake."
"Nothing I can do." was the answer.