Medicaid Monday

I’m here at the Medicaid Office. There is no coffee stand. No wine bar. No host. Well, there is a greeter of sorts but their job seems to consist of quite a bit of shouting, ordering people about, and copious amounts of stink eye. The customer experience is lacking a little something in the ambiance department. If they were aiming for a third world vibe, they’re killing it.

The no wifi alone is enough to earn them a sternly worded yelp review but luckily I always bring my own; plus an extra power pack for my phone since I’ve never seen a room this size with no accessible electrical outlets. It’s as if an architect said, "How can we make this experience more unpleasant and uncomfortable. Harder chairs? Yes! That’s the spirit!"

I got a number. I sat for a few hours until that number was called. I stood on line and waited to get another number and sat back down. Dante Alighieri would be impressed. 

I’m zen about it. I’m here with my laptop (yes, I look uppity as hell; and I’m sure this will count against me along with the crime of being light-skinned) getting work done. 

This visit is literally going to take my whole day. Luckily the parking lot is 24 hours. The office closes at five. I’m not sure if I’ll have to leave and start over, or if they’ll lock me in. I’m guessing whichever is more punitive.