|I'll keep my $10, thanks. For the good porn.|
|I've been there. Oh, I've been there.|
Yesterday, I got a call from a 423 number and was a little confused as to why someone in East Tennessee would be calling me***, but as my habit insisted, I waited to see if the caller would leave a message, which unfortunately it did. And yes, I did call it an "it." Because guess what. It was an automated message.
Greetings and happy holidays! We here at Blue Cross Blue Shield know that the holidays can be a stressful time. A lot of our customers have noted that seasonal depression is at its highest during this time of the year, so we wanted to let you know that, through Blue Cross Blue Shield of Tennessee, we have an extensive list of providers who offer various therapies to help you through these difficult times. [blahblahblah]Now, this was greatly paraphrased and shortened, obviously; the message was about two minutes long, which huh? The last time I left a two minute message on someone's voicemail was by accident and consisted primarily of muffled cursing as I drove in downtown Nashville traffic. I was just so baffled by this that I actually listened to the whole thing before shaking my head and deleting it forever from my phone.
|Seriously, what is this, BC/BS?|
I mean, I kinda have to give them props for using technology to spread awareness of something that people don't like to talk about or like to make fun of*****, but you know what? I have an email account for spam like that; you have my email address on file, and it's a lot easier to delete those. My mom forwards me stuff with more sincerity than this, and I don't really need a half-assed pick-me-up attempt from my damned health insurance company.
That is what booze is for.
And also SAD lamps.
* God, how old do I feel right at this very moment? I remember when cell phones were not called by telemarketers. I also remember using phone books. Why do they still print those now? TRADITION.
** I really do feel for telemarketers. Most of them are just regular people who are trying to make a living, and unfortunately, the only job they could find was dealing with people (read: all humankind) who hate them. If by the off chance I pick up, I try to be nice to them and talk to them about things other than the reason they called. Some of them can be rude about this, and those guys? Yeah, they can fuck themselves. I'll hang right up on your ass.
*** I learned a lot of random things as an eligibility counselor for the state of Tennessee. One was area codes. I now know all of Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, and Michigan. Yay, me.
**** And it kind of does. I was seeing Christmas decorations before fucking Halloween. Poor Thanksgiving.