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February 15, 2003
Cubicle Job
Hi. I've been thinking about caves. In daydreams and in sleeping dreams. Stalagmites, stalactites, all the things that caves have to offer. I have been thinking about moving in to one of them, eating bugs and wearing dropcloth. Then, I thought, if I lived in a cave, I could never escape the noise that's going on in my head. At least in the civilized world, I have email, cell phone, laundry, TiVo -- all these things to cloud what's really going on. Ironically enough (not ironic at all), when I decided that I couldn't really move into a cave, I thought about getting a cubicle job again.
I once had a cubicle job. For three and a half years, I worked at a pharmaceutical, filling prescriptions over the computer for people with workers' compensation injuries. A sample of my daily interaction with people at this job would surely prove why people set bombs off at the office. Please don't do that. And the crazy thing is, judging how my life is going now, broken tooth (see entry: The Tooth, The Whole Tooth, Nothing but the Tooth) and Valentineless, I'd take that cubicle job back any day of the week.
I present the sample cubicle job existence that I actually loved. I was really productive at this job too. I won those office awards that don't really mean anything. You just get to hang another Xerox'ed award at your desk, and maybe if you're lucky, you're going to Bennigan's on the boss. Yahoo! Drinking beer and eating stale nuts with people that don't get you at all as an award. Yes!
Me: PPS. This is Melissa. I'm so excited to help you. [Press mute button] Not really.
Patient: Yeah, I'm at the dern pharmacy and these jackass fools say I can't (pronounced with a long A sound) have my damn Valiums and Oxycontins early. I have to go out of town for a week for my wife's tattoo convention and this shit here ain't right.
Me: Okay, well, let me have your ID number please.
Patient: My ID number? What in sam hell kind of operation are you running? I just called you, shouldn't it be up on the screen there, lady?
Me: No sir. It doesn't work that way. If you just give me your ID number, I can plug it in and help you solve your problem. That's what we're here for. [Press mute button] Kim, are you going to the break room? Girl, get me some Oreos. I need something. These people are tripping today. Thank you boo.
Patient: My ID number. Well, shit where do I find that?
Me: It's on your card emblazoned under the big black letters "I" and "D" or if you know your social security number, I can use that. (Call me an asshole, but I thought it was so fun to use big crazy words on people, effortlessly making fun of them without them noticing. In Cubicle World, you have to get creative so that you don't shoot yourself or others around you).
Patient: Emblaz-who? Oh right, right here. My number is 780 E 4739.
Me: There shouldn't be any letters in the number sir. It should be a 9-digit number that interestingly enough looks exactly like your social. It's a great day out today. Wouldn't you agree? (Very sarcastically, I would throw in weather questions so that the girl next to me would know that it was about to go down right here at my station and to listen up because it's about to get hilarious. In Cubicle World, the signals are the best. One girl's signal to me was "Alrighty Hoo, Let's See Here.")
Patient: Oh, alright. Is this going to take long?
Me: Only as long as you take to give me the number. (I'm adjusting my headset and twirling in my chair, having soundless conversations with coworkers around me, doodling and eating Oreos.)
Patient: Okay, it's 657 98 5555.
Me: [Press mute button] This dude is crazy. Where did he get that first number? (In my game show host voice) Ding! Ding! Ding! You're the grand prize winner! If there's an E in your social, you get full access to all the drugs! You'll be in a coma before you know it, Tom! Sharon, show him what he's won. Drugs for everyone. You crazy fool. [Release mute button] Okay, great. Thomas Dirkenson?
Patient: Yep, that's me. So what's the deal? Can I get my meds or what? (The WH pronounced like the way they do on it King of the Hill).
Me: Give me just one moment to look at your records.
Now, this guy has a huge red flag indicator on his file. It says that he is an alleged abuser, and then there is a long list of all the reasons why he needs 100 pills of Oxycontin for only a 10-day supply. Accidentally flushed them in the toilet. Left them in his mom's car and she lives up the road 19 miles and his bike is in the shop. Hid them from his grandson, but can't remember where he put the dern things. Leisurly upped his own dosage because he was having heart palpitations and he thought more Valium would help. His doctor said he can take the whole bottle if his knee acted up even though we're not dealing with his knee. Keep in mind, this dude broke his wrist two years ago, and is back at work regular style so he's probably, not most certainly, probably using the pills for other reasons. Life is hard for people. They sometimes turn to drugs. Don't do it. Have you seen that marijuana ad that says you'll kill small children as you go through the drive-thru if you're high? I hate that commercial.
Me: Okay, sir, well, it looks like we filled that prescription for you just ten days ago and that you aren't due for a refill until next month around the 12th.
Patient: Well that's a bold faced lie.
Me: Well, I have the bold faced prescription right here in front of me, and it says you my dear Watson aren't due for a refill at this time.
Patient: Watson? I'm Dirkenson. You must be in the wrong file Miss.
Me: No, are you on 65 Corn Lane? Your wife's name is Lulu. You like motorcycles. You like, I'm sorry, take, you take Oxycontin and Valium.
Patient: Yep, that's me.
He never realized that I shouldn't have personal information in his actual file like his wife's name or his affinity for Harley Davidson. He just agrees with me. And this game with people was so fun!
Me: Yeah, so, maybe you want to call your insurance adjuster and she can help you.
Patient: That lady doesn't like me.
Me: [Press mute button] Really, I love you addict. [Release mute button] I'm sorry to hear that. You seem like quite a pleasant person to me. I enjoy our conversation. But, all I can do is put in a call to your adjuster for you, if you'd like.
Patient: Can you do that Michelle? I would surely appreciate it. I just need the pills for today. I won't call back if I get them today.
Me: Call all you like. We're here for you Mr. Doyle. [Press mute button] But call when I get my black ass off of work. You're out of your damn mind.
Patient: Dirkenson. Michelle, you said Doyle or somethingerother.
Me: Oh yes, Mr. Watkinson, you have a great day! I'll put that call in for you. I will call you back as soon as I know.
Patient: Should I wait here at the pharmacy?
Me: You can, but I wouldn't suggest it. Your adjuster may take up to two days to return our call.
Patient: Two mother fucking days! All you people set out to make my life a living hell. I come in here, I work hard and all I want is my damn pills so I can function in every day life. Just the other day, I thought to myself, I don't know where I'd be without the miracle of these pain meds and you want to do your sam hell best to ensure that I can't have 'em. This is an outrage. I'm calling my lawyer. I got one of them swanky lawyers off of the old TV and he said he can get me a settlement that will shut down that whole office. Listen here, Michelle, you get it done and you get it done today. You can't have people needing their meds. I'll wait right here and you call me back right here. Look buddy (to pharmacist Nital), this ain't right and I want your name and your supervisor's name. Can you talk to her, man?
Nital, the pharmacist: I cannot fill this prescription. (Whispering) I advise you not to get an approval because I think these prescriptions are stolen or fake. I don't know what else to tell him. This is always like this. I have a busy pharmacy to run. He always disrupts the work here. He is very angry.
Me: I'm sorry sir. Just tell him that it's out of your hands and if he needs to vent, he can call us. I'm so sorry.
Patient: Did you set 'em straight, man? Okay, Michelle, I'll be right here.
Me: I think you should go home. This may take a full business day. I hate to disappoint you but it's not up to us to give the authorization.
Patient: I got a whole flurry of people that can back me on this.
Me: I'm sure that flurry of friends is quite grand, but I need your flurry of an insurance company to authorize this, okay? So let me make that call, and I'll call you at home. AT HOME, sir. [Press mute button] He's got a flurry of friends, y'all. Flurry! This fool said flurry!
Patient: Alright. But I'm warning you.
Me: I take all threats very seriously.
Patient: I have ways, lady.
Me: Mysterious ways, I'm sure, a flurry of ways, sir. You don't have to tell me twice. I'll be in touch with your insurance company sir. I will talk to you soon.
Patient: Goddamnit. Do me right, Miss. I'm hanging up now, but I'm warning you.
Me: Enjoy your day, sir.
Cubicle job, man. So for all of you who are sitting in a cubicle right now as you read this, I feel for you. I am your brethren. I understand you. I have been there. Now clear your history so your boss won't know you read this. Recompose yourself. Sit upright. Look busy. And I'll see you later.
Posted by melissah at February 15, 2003 12:22 PM