A year ago, my friend told me I needed health insurance. I told her I already knew that. The problem so many face — including bartenders like myself — is there places of work don’t offer health insurance. Like servers, gangsters, and online gamblers don’t get sick. Please. 

So I explored the thick forest that is online health insurance plans. Sites like ehealthinsurance.com offer up a list of plans one can choose from that best suits their needs. I picked one out (though angry, I will leave out the name of the “healthcare provider” so I don’t get sued for a dollar amount I don’t have) and proceeded to fill out my information. Name, address, social, name of my goldfish, and the titles of every DVD I own. I pat my back, congratulating myself for being a responsible adult. Is there an online website for those without 401Ks?

A couple weeks later, as expected, I receive my monthly bill. A simple little thing with a tear off pay stub, you know with perforations so that when you tear it off, it fits perfectly into a prepaid envelope along with a check for an amount of money you can’t really afford, but you overlook it because it will come in handy when you get your teeth cleaned twice a year. And heck, you’re “responsible.”

Two months, and the metaphorical blindside pops itself ever so innocently into your mailbox and instead of the expected, repetitive monthly bill, you get a new one, that’s higher than you “signed” for, and a one sheet, typed up explanation of why your premium just jumped. Not a lot. Enough to notice, but not enough to call them during your busy two-job, chaotic schedule. Well, I guess I can’t deny I need coverage for something I could get…like maybe something like addentitius asperious; a disease contracted by exposure to a bug indigenous to Estonia. Hmmm. I was saving Estonia for my honeymoon. Better not make a fuss then. P.S. I made that disease up, but I did get a sheet telling me tests for a disease I don’t have is why I, and countless others, are now paying extra.

Another couple months go by. Instead of paying $110 a month (like I signed), my bill is now close to $150. $40 a month. Do the insurance companies not know of some peoples’ secret stash used for such frivolous things like…gasoline, groceries, and the occasional Red Bull I need in between jobs? Oh, that second one is just a silly luxury. Phhhht. Food. So I called and made my complaints. But to no avail. Sample convo?

“There’s a disclaimer you signed, ma’am.”

“Huh, what disclaimer?

“On page 145 of your booklet.”

(I flip to that page. It takes a minute) “Oh. The part that says: ‘please note after your rate guarantee period, your rates are subject to change.’

“That’s right.”

“But it’s been like six months.”

“Uh-huh. Your Rate Guarantee was up last month.”

“Jeez, well thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome.”

I was being sarcastic, but oh well. At least I am covered when I go into my appointment next week. What a silly notion that was. Apparently there’s more fine print explaining the whats and what nots they cover and that includes some specialty doctors. So here’s the conclusion of the story: I called, argued, refused to pay, and they dropped me as their customer. The End.

Another rant, come and gone. And here I sit, a couple thousand less in my bank account, a large medical bill pending, and no health insurance. I think I’m going to get a third job — anyone wanna teach me how to play online poker?