A little over a year ago, I was out with a friend, three partners at the company I knew I would probably go to work for, and a guy that I had just started dating. I was still suffering from the famous SxSW Plague, so I was hopped up on medicine, and a bit tired. I also had a little too much to drink, and got completely wasted from it. Yeah, it was pretty stupid of me. And this one night of drinking has caused me so much annoyance it’s just ridiculous.
As I was embracing the porcelain throne in the bar’s restroom, I knew that I was really needing to just go home and go to bed. But someone who worked at the bar called an ambulance, in what, I believe, was a cover-their-butts move. I don’t blame them for that.
I get to the hospital, and the nurse had me lay down on a hospital bed. Then she left me there to stare at the ceiling and sober up. I really didn’t want to be there. I didn’t even need to be there. But I was there. And they wouldn’t let me leave. I never did see a doctor come in. I pretty much just laid there for an hour before the nurse finally came back in and asked how I was doing.
“Ugh, get me out of here already. I don’t even need to be here,” I groaned. This didn’t make the nurse happy.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just really tired. It’s late. I want to go home,” I pleaded.
She let me go.
A month later, I received two bills. One bill was because I rode in an ambulance (not by choice or necessity) to the hospital. The other was for my one-hour stay in the hospital, and the itemization even included “doctor’s care” and “medication”. I had never seen a doctor that night, and I never received medication of any sort. But I was not really in the mood to try to fight it, so I paid the very steep, expensive bills (or so I had thought).
About 6 months later, I received a reminder in the form of a delinquency notice from the San Francisco Tax Collection Office for the ambulance bill. It seemed that check got lost or perhaps I never sent it and only thought I did. Either way, after verifying that the money was never deducted from my account, I scolded myself for letting the due date slip, then went on my bank’s online bill pay system, and sent off a payment.
Months later, I received yet another delinquency notice, along with a threat to report me to the credit bureau. The notice had a name and number to call to dispute the matter. So I called the number and got the voicemail of the woman whose name and contact information was on the letter. I explained in my message I left that I had already made the payment, and had records to show I sent it, and then left my name and number.
The next day I called back, and got the voicemail again. I looked online for a main line to the San Francisco Tax Collection Office. After being on hold for about an hour, the person that answered couldn’t help me but could direct my call. He directed me to the woman’s supervisor, since I couldn’t seem to reach her.
That landed me in the voicemail of that supervisor. I left a message for her with an explanation and that my calls hadn’t yet been returned. The letter left me only 2 weeks to dispute this issue, so every day counted. And only getting voicemails was not at all comforting.
The next day I called again. I was on hold for about 2 hours. When someone finally answered, I told the guy that I really needed to speak with someone. He offered to take a message. I told him that I had already left 3 messages, and that it didn’t make sense for me to be on hold for 2 hours only to leave a message. Surely someone had to be there for me to talk to. He maintained his offer. So I left a message again.
The next morning, I got a call back from a guy with a difficult to understand accent. After apologetically getting him to repeat his question 5 times until I finally figured out what he was asking me, I explained my issue to him. He told me they had absolutely no record of my payment, and that it was possible that it was lost in the mail. He then asked me for the date that I sent the payment. I told him that I was in transit, going into work, and that I didn’t have the date in front of me.
He then said in a very disbelieving tone, “Jina, I need the date of that payment.”
I told him once again that he had caught me at a time that I simply couldn’t answer that question. He offered to call me back in a couple hours. I gratefully told him, “yes, please! Thank you so much!”
He never called back.
The next day, I went to City Hall to make my dispute in person. I should have done this to begin with, but I really didn’t think it could be this difficult to handle my situation over the phone.
I waited in line for what felt like ages, and then finally my number was called. I explained to the woman my issue, and before I had even had the chance to finish, she got on the phone to talk to someone. She hung up and then said, “Next!”
“Oh… but… wait, what?” I stammered.
“Please be seated. Someone is coming to help you,” she said in a very annoyed tone.
“Oh. You didn’t say that before, so I got confused. Sorry.”
I sat and waited for what felt like more ages, and then finally a man called me to come speak to him. I explained my issue, and was almost at the verge of tears. And then I said, “Look, if my payment was lost in the mail, I’ll pay it again. I just don’t want you guys reporting me when I did try to pay you.”
He then had me show him my records, got my check number and date of payment. He looked at me with a look of concern, and then said, “Well, when I spoke to you yesterday, I asked you to tell me this information, but you didn’t give it to me.”
“Wait… that was you? You were supposed to call me back! You never called me back!” I exclaimed. I was so completely and totally frustrated at this point.
He looked at me with wide eyes and then said, “Oh… I’m so sorry. Here.” He then took the information down that I had shown him, and went to go check with the payment staff to see if they had my check and it had somehow just been sitting there or something.
30 minutes later, he returned and told me they did not have my check anywhere. I told him, “look, like I said, I’ll make the payment again if I need to. Just don’t report me to the credit bureau!”
“Oh, we won’t. You came here to state your case. But we do need your payment.”
I sighed in relief, but was still very frustrated. “Okay, fine. So I’ll make the payment.”
“Oh, you can do that over there,” he said, and pointed to a room to my right.
“Thank you,” I said and then made my payment. The whole “lost in the mail” thing really baffles me. I sometimes wonder if things really are lost in the mail, or if they are lost in the office, and the poor mail gets blamed. But then again, it’s possible mail gets put in the wrong place.
Like today, for example. I came home and saw a letter addressed to me sitting below my mailbox — where anyone could have taken it or thrown it away. Usually letters to me aren’t outside my locked mailbox unless they were accidentally put in someone else’s mailbox. Somebody was nice enough to leave it there for me. It was addressed from the San Francisco Tax Collection Office. What?
I tore the envelope open. A month (maybe two?) had passed since my visit to City Hall, and I was seriously ready to throw a fit, as I was pretty sure it was a major FAIL on their part, once again.
It was my first check I had sent the first time around, with the following note:
Dear Mrs. Bolton:
I return your Check #XXXX, for the amount of $XXX.XX, because you already paid in full your balance over phone with credit card.
Please, see enclosed your original mentioned check.
Should you have any further questions, blah blah blah…
SERIOUSLY? You returned the check that was “lost in the mail” months and months after I sent it, because I already made a payment — a payment I only made because you supposedly didn’t receive my first payment — yeah, this payment you have just returned to me? REALLY?
Oh, and I paid in person, not by phone, and I’m not a Mrs. But thanks, anyway!
