Tuesday, June 28, 2005

The Machine

I hate it. I loathe it. I dread dealing with it... or even thinking about dealing with it. The "people" who work with it... or more accurately within it, make me want to tear out their beedy little eyes... and smash their smug smiles into their porky faces.

Last night Jeb fell and smashed a few teeth pretty good... I was dreading it... but I knew it meant I would have to... go out.

Out there... I hate going out there... You know why? Because there are people out there. That's why. God how I loathe people...

But you know what's worse than people? The Machine. The Machine is worse.

Still.. The boy's teeth needed looked at... though I know it's a trivial matter... he's eating... they look fine... he's not hurting... still... I'm the daddy... so its my job... Away we go...

I arrive at the Emergency Dental Clinic at 10:40am. The porky drone behind the desk informs me that I have an enormous pile of paperwork to complete, and it mumbles something about hoping I can write fast... apparently the clinic closes at 11. Great.

So... here I sit in a waiting room with a two year old, and a three month old... trying to fillout a stack of paperwork... Somebody shoot me.

Have you ever had to do this? One of the first things I read is... Is my child alergic to any general anesthetics? Are you kidding? He's two! And if you think I'm gonna let your dumb, failed out of medical school so you decided to be a dentist ass put my kid under with an unprotected airway, you've lost your damned mind!

Page after page of the exact same questions... What business is run this way? Why do I have to give you my name and address 8 different times? It's 2005 ya morons! How long have we had carbon copy technology? Criminey! You input data into a database... you then share that database with them what need the data... OR...

You give me 1,234,332,209,098 forms to fill out... all asking the same damned questions!

I've got an idea...

How about you integrate your damned systems... shove those forms up your fat bureacrat ass... and stop tryin' to ruin my life!

Of course... all the other sheep dutifully fill out the forms and hand them in... then wait for hours for the privilage of being served.

I took the first two forms up to the desk... handed them to the bloated drone... and told her that's all she was gettin'. It regurgitated some line about requirements. I told it that it had all the answers to all the questions. It could fill them in itself. Then it pointed out that it was 11am and they were closing until 1pm...

So I pointed out that it could kiss my ass... and we left.

I'm sick of the Machine. Dammit.

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