But there may be a rainbow at the end of the day.
My electric scooter needs some repairs. One to tire has a slow leak, and I need new batteries. So where does one go for repairs? Why, back to where one bought it, of course. So I called that outfit, and to my surprise they told me they no longer do repairs. So where should I take it? They gave me the name of an outfit down in San Jose, some 15 – 20 miles away.
So I called, explained the problem, and made an appointment. Cliff drove down there (it was easy to find) and about a half hour later he called me to say that they didn’t want to do the repair! What!? So I phoned the outfit and ask to speak to the repairman. After a brief wait, I was told he was away from his desk and would call me back. He has yet to call, and I suspect he never will. And Cliff came home – with an unrepaired scooter.
Now what was I to do? I went online looking for some scooter repair place. Oh, there are a number of them around, but they don’t do repairs to my scooter. Ack! More online searching. Found an outfit that comes to the home to do repairs, and their map appeared to indicate that they are nationwide. So I called. Explained the problem.
“Oh, we only do repairs for Medicare. Did it Medicare pay for this scooter?”
Me: “Well, not this one, but the original purchase was through Medicare. I am now on my third scooter. They won’t pay for subsequent purchases.”
Them: “Then we cannot help you.”
Me: “You mean if one scooter wears out then I am out of luck?”
Them: “One moment please.” Brief pause. “Apparently we can help. You’ll need to answer many questions.”
So I answered all of their questions, and I was told someone would get back to me within 48 hours. So I’m waiting to see what will happen. If this works, I won’t even have to pay for it. That’s the rainbow at the end of the day.
Time for fun --
When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But somehow, I always had something else to take care of first--the truck, the car, fishing--always something more important to me.
Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point. When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house. I was gone only a few minutes. When I came out again I handed her a toothbrush. "When you finish cutting the grass," I said, "you might as well sweep the sidewalk."
The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.