3 Strikes

I'm OUT

Strike One:

I go to the bank with a deposit, wanting $100 cash back. The teller looks at me, looks at the check, looks at me again. "Do you have ID?" Note, I have banked at this bank for 30 some years. They never ask for my ID. I produce the ID. He looks at the ID, looks at me, looks at the ID again. Never mind that I have at least six times as much money in the bank as this deposit. He goes and gets his supervisor. She looks at the check, looks at me, looks at the ID, looks at me and at last mutters, "it's ok."

Strike Two:

I go to the drug store to pick up a prescription that I called the doctor about on Monday. Did they have it? Of course not. "You'll have to call the doctor," the clerk says. I ask if she would mind calling him. "It's not our policy," she says.

So I go home and call the doctor. "The pharmacy needs to fax the request," the receptionist tells me. I try to explain to her what the pharmacy told me. "Sorry, that's our policy" she says. "Have them fax it to us."

I politely explain that it is the policy of the pharmacy that the doctors office call them. I explain that I called them on Monday, that it has been five days, they did have my phone number, and on Monday I was assured that they would call me if there was a problem. Finally the receptionist relents and agrees to call the pharmacy. "Will that be today?" I ask. Silly question.

Strike Three:

The sun was out. I was working. Sitting here at kitchen table doing quarterly bookkeeping. Dreaming about being outside. Finishing up work. Thunder - lightning - wind - torrential rain. Uplugging and running on batteries. Better sign off before computer gets zapped.