True Tales of a Talker #2: The NY Edition

Another day at work and another tale to tell.

When you deal with insurance companies you are eventually going to get some characters. This phone call did not disappoint. This customer service representative even had ties to Maine.

From my cubicle at Maine Veterans' Homes, I called United Healthcare for help with a stubborn claim. You can call them stubborn when it takes multiple phone calls and over a year to have the insurance company FINALLY see where they’ve gone wrong and pay a claim according to the guidelines associated with it. Stubborn little things. I hate it when they hang around for longer than they’re supposed to...like black fly season.

As the call connected, I would have bet my last dollar I heard a New York accent on the other end saying “Thank you for cawling You-neyed-ed Healthcare. This is” for this instance we’ll call her ‘Rhonda’ “Rhonda. How are you doin’ today?” That last part sounded like a legit imitation of Joey Tribiani on F*R*I*E*N*D*S.

I answered “Absolutely fabulous, Rhonda! How about you?”

“Oh, well, that is fabulous to hear! I’m doin’ alright! How may I help you?”

I poured out my claim troubles to ‘Rhonda’ and she was ready to help. While giving her all the information she would ever need and then some, she went to work researching the phone calls I had previously made and dug into the claim like the Golden Girls digging into their nightly cheesecake.

While she was scanning her system for information, I asked her if she was working from home. She revealed that she had been working from home since March and was glad she was. Living near Tampa, she felt safer working from home. With Florida being one of the hotspots of the COVID-19 pandemic, she hadn’t been to the gym or the beach since the lockdowns had started. She was really sad about it because in the beginning of the year (my guess it was probably due to a New Year’s resolution) she wanted to get healthy so she started going to the gym 4 to 5 times a week. In the 3 months prior to the pandemic, she had lost 40 pounds and was so proud. Now, she was home with her teenage son and her cats and searching for a treadmill to get back on track of her fitness regimen.

She also missed going to the beach and I told her I used to live in Saint Petersburg for three years. I could hear her typing away as she said she didn’t understand why everyone thinks Clearwater Beach is better than Saint Pete Beach. I totally agreed with her. I used visit John’s Pass and visit the Red Skelton store (which no longer exists).  

The one thing I regretted not seeing in Florida when I lived there was a rocket launch. I asked her if she watched the NASA Atlas V launch with the Perseverance Rover aboard this morning. She said with living a few hours away and starting work as early as she does she was unable to. I told her I had signed up my son and myself on the names to go to Mars and we were on that ship! She asked me if I had seen and I said yes. She then assumed I lived in Florida. I said “No, ma’am, I live in Maine.”

That’s when the joy in her voice became full blown.

‘Rhonda’ jumped at the chance to say she loved Maine. She grew up in Brooklyn (I KNEW IT!) and used to summer in Maine with her family. Coming from the city to driving to rural Maine where her cousins lived in trailers with acres of land with trees and streams was a complete shock to her. Hearing her say that it was so QUIET in Maine made me think how lucky we are we have this kind of peace. She could see the stars and while she was here it was her only time seeing fireflies. She looked forward to visiting every summer. Autumn was quite another trip for her. Her family would head north for the fall foliage and she remembered visiting the pumpkin patches and drinking apple cider. It was her favorite time of year. If you have ever heard of the Fresh Air Fund, the exuberance for Maine in her voice must be how those children feel when they travel here to get away from inner city life for just a few weeks. A few hours north and a completely different world. One that ‘Rhonda’ looks back on with fondness.

As we concluded our phone call with the claim being sent back to be reprocessed with all the information I had given her she gave me my reference number. Then the words I love to hear came through my headset:

“Thank you for cawling You-neyed-ed Healthcare. It was a pleasure tawking with you, Sharon. I hope you stay safe and have a blessed day.”

You too, Rhonda. You too.

Mysterious Truck Driver

In early 2000, I was a 26 year old contestant in a karaoke contest at a Skowhegan, Maine bowling alley/restaurant and lounge. If you made it to the finals you had the chance of winning $1000. I was excited because I loved to sing and we could really use the money. Back then, I was working three jobs and helping my, now former, husband get through nursing school. He would be graduating in just over a month and starting what would be his lifelong career. Myself, I was a medical biller for a mental health facility making just over $9/hour. I was also working for a temp agency and sang in a band almost every weekend until the wee hours of the morning.

 

The few trips we had made out of the state included Virginia, Florida, Tennessee and Washington, DC. This time, however, I would have to be making a trip alone. Washington D.C. in the dead of night was going to be quite the challenge.

 

The evening that I won my preliminary round of the contest I was told the date of the finals. My jaw dropped. It was the only weekend that I would not even be in Maine. The people who ran the contest looked at me incredulously. They told me I HAD to be there because I had a really good shot at winning. I needed to make a decision.

 

The reason I would not be able to participate was because we had promised my sister, who had never driven anywhere by herself, that we would travel to DC with her for the weekend. She was a huge fan of the television show, Emergency!, and her favorite actor, Randolph Mantooth, was going to be there that same weekend of the contest. He was the guest of honor at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History. There was going to be a display of memorabilia from the show and he would be there to introduce it. She really wanted to meet him.

 

I couldn’t be in two places at once.

 

When I told my husband he asked what we were going to do. We talked with my sister and hatched the plan to have him drive down with her in her car and spend the one night in the hostel we had all found in a travel book. I would drive down as soon at the contest was over and meet them at the Washington Monument the next morning at 8am.

 

At 5 am the day of the contest I wished my husband a safe trip and he left to meet my sister to travel the nearly 600 miles to their destination. I tried to go back to sleep. I took the day off specifically for that purpose but to no avail. I had always been a morning person and that day was no different.

 

I packed a light bag for the trip because I knew, win or lose, we were staying overnight and traveling back the next day. As luck would have it, I won the contest and the $1000 prize!. It was 10 o’clock at night and after changing my clothes I climbed into my 1993 Mercury Tracer and headed for the highway.

 

In 2000, I had an actual map. That’s it. No GPS. No cell phone. No English woman’s voice on an app to help guide me. It was me and the Rand McNally Road Atlas of the United States. I would travel I-95 South the entire way down.

 

As soon as I hit the Massachusetts border I noticed something peculiar. There were no cars. The only vehicles on the road were tractor trailers. When you’re under five feet tall in a compact car and there are semis in front, behind and to each side of you, you start to feel a bit nervous. I kept wondering if they could even see me at all. I found an opportunity to get to the right travel lane. I put my blinker on and it just so happened the truck in front of me put its blinker on. I moved over and so did they. When he would change lanes I did as well. This went on for a little while.

 

I finally had to pull over. Being awake for almost 20 hours was starting to take its toll on me. It was nearly 2 am and, though I had packed an overnight bag, I had failed to pack snacks. I saw the sign for the next rest stop and realized the truck was also going to rest as well. I parked my car and went to the McDonald’s to order food and a drink with caffeine. I never drank caffeinated drinks but I needed to stay awake for the rest of the drive. I looked at around at the people coming inside the building wondering if the truck driver who had been my guide was one of the patrons filing in.

 

I finished my late night snack, used the facilities and headed out. I filled the car with gas and started back on my way. I pulled back onto the highway with another six hour drive ahead of me.

 

About ten minutes down the road a truck pulled up alongside me and I saw a light go on in the cab. I saw a manly hand wave at me but that was all I could see. I turned my light on and waved back. Our lights went out and I heard his air horn blare. He sped up and pulled in front of me.

 

My truck driver was back!

 

Sure enough, the license plate was the same. It’s hard to forget when you were staring at the back end of the same truck for hours. Together until we reached DC the semi and I changed lanes. The driver would always wait for an opportunity to make certain I had enough space to change lanes with him.

 

The sun was starting to come up and the miles melted away. I started to see signs for the DC area. I knew I had to start following them. My hand reached for the signal but I didn’t really want to. I had followed the same truck for nearly 400 miles. I considered it and its driver my guardian angels. I flicked the blinker on to take the exit and I could see his hand wave out his window. I rolled down mine and waved back. He blew his horn and I exited the highway to find the Monument and my waiting family.

 

I’ll never know who he was or what triggered him to stay with me for so long or remember the name of the company he drove for. All I will remember is that this driver was a friend. He made my trip more enjoyable, less stressful and definitely more interesting. 10-3. If you're a trucker, you'll know what that means.

Alex Trebek Say Uranus In A Funny Way

I couldn't help it but I had to giggle when he said it.

Yes, I feel 13 again but when someone so serious says the word 'Uranus' in a sentence the way he did...well...let's just say it brought me back to junior high.

Alex Trebek's Uranus Faux Pas: http://youtu.be/tGUntX0NWbo