I fell asleep and I had a dream.
I was in the conference room of my health insurance company. It was full of people, seated in a very organized fashion around a large table. Each had a folder in front of them. There was a very gray person in a gray suit with a gray tie on presiding over the head of the table. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but they were very stern indeed.
“I want to start this meeting by asking Mr. Brown in Dental why a benefit check was sent to the McGreevey family of Sioux St. Marie, Michigan. It popped up on my screen at close of business yesterday.”
“It was a mistake, boss,” said a short, fat man with one hair artfully arranged on his pate. He was sweating.
“Well,” said the figure at the end of the table. He seemed to think about the matter for a minute. Then he took out a large revolver, aimed it at the fat man, and blew the top of his head off. A crew of men in white jumpsuits appeared out of nowhere and hauled off his body. They were followed by a cleaning crew that eradicated all evidence of his existence in a matter of seconds. “Lassiter,” he said, “Make sure Mr. Brown’s relatives don’t file for a workman’s comp claim. This was obviously an accident of his own making.” There were nods around the table.
“All right,” said the figure I had come to think of as Gray. “Report.”
They went around the table.
“I sent out the next round of letters demanding more extraneous information to the Jones family of Pittsburgh,” said the first.
“I informed the Monroes of Atlanta that all of their claims were duplicates of claims already submitted,” said the second. “It’ll take them months to untangle that situation.”
“Well,” said the third, a tall, painfully thin undertaker type in a black suit and tie. He seems inordinately proud of himself. I hated him immediately. “I sent Mr. Bing of New York City his fifth correspondence on the claims he has submitted between June and December of last year, claiming that all forms had been misplaced and demanding re-submission with original bills enclosed.” There was a gasp around the table. “I also requested that he send me some frozen hot chocolate from Serendipity,” he added with a small grin.
There was a pause around the table. Then the whole room erupted in laughter. And I woke up.
Thank goodness it was just a dream, huh? Or… was it?