A Healer's War

Chapter 6: Sales Call

Chapter 6: Sales Calls

*Best America Insurance - Training Database*

*Customer Service Agent - Raven Lee*

*Outgoing Audio Log - Friday. 13th of April 2012. 6:45 AM*

Ring. Ring. Click.

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"Hello, Mr. Smith? My name is Ja-er, Raven Lee. How are you today?"

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"Well, I'm glad to hear that, sir. I'm calling today on behalf of Fatsack's Whoopsies Coverage."

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"No, sir, that's not the actual name of the company. It's something more official, but the same general idea. I was wondering, sir, if you have health insurance?"

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"Well, I think it's a racket too, sir. Criminal, even. You should see the scripts they give us. Woof. Talk about fear-mongering. I'm supposed to ask you about your family and then make up a scenario where one of them dies. Isn't that terrible? But I'll admit, the improv is fun."

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"Well, yes—a straight shooter, sir. I'm a big fan of the truth. Speaking of shooting straight, according to your profile here, you are sixty-two. And male. So, how's your aim these days, sir? Health insurance will help with that prostate." *muffled laughter*

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*muffled laughter* "Now there is no need to swear, sir. I'm just lightening the mood. Death and disease it's all pretty heavy, wouldn't you say? My therapist says I use humor to cope, which I think she's actually right about for once. Anyway, I meant nothing by it. Especially since your file says you're a gun collector."

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"Alright, easy does it. You sound mad, sir, but let's practice saying "muff" instead of those other four-letter words."

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"Yes, like earmuffs."

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"Yup. You nailed it."

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"Am I high? Yes, sir, but don't tell my boss. For obvious reasons, it's against company policy."

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"Wait! You can, of course, hang up, but my data-mined records show that you don't have health insurance, and while the fiscal and political entities of Fatsacks are questionable at best, I think it's important to have a contingency plan that doesn't involve losing the farm."

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"Phoenix, Arizona?! Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that. I hear you are running out of water down there. Looks like we need to update your file. Oh hey, one sec, my boss is headed over, and it looks like he is going to pee himself. Can I give you one piece of free advice, Mr. Smith? It's not sexy, and it's not to help my sales quota: get the insurance. Not for you, not for the company, but for your fellow taxpayers, the ones who will foot your bill if you don't. I know it's a stupid system, but don't be that guy, Mr. Smith. And if that doesn't sway you, think of your family, so the massive bill you get if you trip and break your ankle on a sprinkler head doesn't totally muff them over too. And I hear you have lots of them down there."

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"Yes, your wife. Talk it over with her. If you don't hang up when I come back, I promise I'll get you a screaming deal."