I promise my blog isn’t becoming some virtual notebook for recording every instance in which someone is mean to me. Considering yesterday’s post and what you’re about to read, it may seem like it, but really it’s not.
Thanks for being awesome.
Okay. Someone was mean to me. Not just kind of mean, really mean.
It was one of the doctors at the vet’s office. It’s the guy whose name is listed first on the sign, so, I guess maybe he’s in charge. I rarely ever actually deal with him. But, today, as I was dropping off The Evil Cat to be fixed, he approached me to discuss my bill. That is, if discussing my bill means verbally assaulting me until I cried.
(You see, reluctantly and with great shame, I agreed to a payment plan with the vet’s office in order to get all (SEVEN!) of our mature female cats fixed NOW, in order to avoid another cat explosion.)
I bawled all the way home, planning all the ways I was going to get him back for this. But, in reality, all I did was get home and write a strongly worded letter that I intended to send with payment of my bill. Take that Dr. Meanie! This is what I wrote, with the exception of the comments in parentheses. (They were added, for your information.)
Dear Dr. Meanie,
Enclosed you will find payment for the remaining balance due on our account with your office. (This is likely the only sentence he will care about, but I’ll include the rest, because it will make me feel better.) I’d like to thank you for the care your staff (Your staff, not you. Jerk.) has provided our pets over the past two years. I am especially grateful for the service provided by your office manager and your partner as they have always shown such warmth and sensitivity to my family and our animals, many of whom had been rescued and, therefore, required a tender touch. They have made our experience with your office a pleasant and positive one.
I am, however, gravely disappointed with the interaction I had with you, particularly when you approached me on Tuesday, August 12th to discuss our outstanding bill.
Our relationship began in 2006 when we took advantage of your 24 hour emergency service and brought our ailing dog Clyde in for treatment, which we paid for (out the nose) in full at the time of service. You also provided crematory services for Clyde when he passed a year later, which we also paid for in full at the time of service. In 2007, you vaccinated and spayed or neutered seven of our cats, and though you offered us the option to make payments, we paid the bills in full at the time of service. You also performed a very expensive surgery ($800!) to resolve our cat Monet’s mammary hyperplasia, which we paid for in full at the time of service, although another offer of a payment plan had been made.
Recently, when we discussed the time frame and course of care for seven more of our cats that needed to be fixed, and again when we brought our cat Max in for emergency surgery on his maimed tail, the offer to make payments on the impending bill was made. Like most Americans, our financial situation has suffered along with the economy, so we gladly accepted this gracious offer. There were no specific terms to the payment plan agreement. We simply made payments, generally as we brought each animal in for their surgery, and had acknowledged that we would continue to make payments after all seven of the cats were fixed until the bill was paid. For this reason, I was shocked when you approached me on Tuesday, August 12th in the waiting room of your office and demanded immediate payment in full as another customer looked on.
I informed you that I was not able to pay our bill in full that day and reminded you of our agreement to resolve the bill in payments. You demanded half the balance immediately. Again, I informed you that I was not able to make a payment for half the balance that day. You asked, “Do you know how much you owe?” (Yes. It’s around the amount you charged for Monet’s surgery. That number wasn’t so shocking to you then.) and disclosed the balance of our account. (Again, while a customer witnessed it. Awesome!) “You’re gonna have to put it on a credit card or something,” you said. I told you the date of my husband’s next pay and offered to pay as much as I could then. You said, “Fine, pay it off on Friday.” I left your office, with my children, humiliated and in tears. (And you could have cared less. Fuckface.)
Dr. Meanie, if you were displeased with the amounts or the timeliness of the payments on my bill, I wish you would have discussed it with me civilly and in private. I do not believe I deserved the discourteous and venomous treatment I received from you that day. It was hurtful and embarrassing. And it is the reason I will be taking my business elsewhere.
This is what I wanted to write.
Dear Dr. Meanie,
Now I know why you’re an animal doctor and not a people doctor, you rude fucking asshole.
When I returned to pick The Evil Cat up later that afternoon, I received an apology. Not from Dr. Meanie, but from the staff in the office. I was assured that it was a misunderstanding, that Dr. Meanie wasn’t aware of the payment plan I had set up with the other doctor, that we’ve always been excellent customers, they appreciate all we were doing for these cats and that I could continue the payment plan as initially arranged. And while that’s very nice, I don’t think I can go back there. Would you?
Also, the letter? It is so being sent.