As I drove up to a Walgreen's pickup window, I was aware of the over sized, iconic tank-like minivan in front of me. (Foolish, lazy woman that I am, I chose not to back up and use my two good legs to walk in to Walgreens). The occupant of the van is, of course, a black-veiled Muslim female. She is in conversation with the clerk, arguing about her Medicaid paying for her prescriptions. The clerk is miked and anyone can hear within 100 feet that she is exasperated and getting nowhere with the Muslim who simply keeps repeating that Medicaid always pays and that the clerk needs to recheck. This scenario goes on and on. Muslim beach isn't leaving until she gets what she wants. Clerk tells her it can't be done. Muslim calls her husband on cell phone, then tries to force clerk to talk to him. Clerk refuses and asks Muslim to move up so she can wait on me. Muslim refuses. Clerk states she will call security/police. Muslim tells her to go ahead. Clerk does. Store manager is called. Muslim still sits, filling in the details of what is transpiring on her cell phone to the husband. Manager arrives. Ends up giving the RX to her, knowing he is going to have Medicaid refusal for the charges. Me? I am pondering how I, a citizen by birth, eligible to vote, run for the office of president of the United States of America, payer of those RX meds she is receiving from tax dollars, was only an hour before digging under couch cushions in pursuit of a quarter to complete the required $10.00 copay for my RX.
Isn't it ironic? I figure it will make for good reading in a book I probably will never write.