A tall, shadowed figure approached.
"Who are you?" I, donning a French maid costume, asked.
"I'm your worst nightmare," said the outlined being, the stench of sweat and trouble dripping from his pours.
"You're bad. And you know it," I growled.
"Don't I?" he retorted, the smug bastard. "I'm an insurance carrier, baby. I'm as bad as they come."
He lunged for me. I scurried away, but in my haste I broke off the end of my high heel and fell face first onto my chaise lounge.
"Oh, please, no, please," I pleaded, in part hoping he'd turn around and harass the next self-employed soul that crossed his path, but also secretly wanting him to grab me and have his way with my supple self.
"I thought you liked the group thing. Decided you'd pay the price to have some one-on-one time?" he joked as he ripped my fishnet stockings, clawing at my thighs.
"I don't want you," I yelled. Feeling defeated, I added, "I need you."
"And so you shall have me," he said as he flung off his pants and...
Keith here. I'm going to stop this romance novel rape fantasy from unfolding anymore. There may be children reading this blog...or kittens even! The tale that unfolded before you may seem like some sort of lustful nightmare dreamed up by an oversexed homosexual with a proclivity for Fabio and cleaning ladies. But I assure you, it is only a simple parable (and if Aesop had included a little more steaminess into his fables, he probably would have sold more of them. Did he even sell them? Or did he just walk around telling people how to act. What an ass!)
Insurance is a bitch. And individual healthcare is the head hound of the bitch pack. At least if you huddle up in a group you can negotiate lower rates and more comprehensive coverage. But when you're a lone lad like myself, you may as well be swimming in a pool of sharks after taking a dip in a bloodbath.
I spent literally all day calling various brokers trying to find adequate coverage. And if I'm approved (IF) on the one plan that I thought was reasonable, I guess this post will be moot. But when is life ever that storybook? And if fairy tales of yesterday were rooted in reality, Cinderella probably would have asked her fairy godmother for a good PPO with a low premium and deductible, especially if she's walking around in glass slippers.
So odds are I'm going to have a tough time finding reasonably priced healthcare. It's the price you pay for freedom.
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