The Bill

“Uh, it was January 23, 2002, Carroll is the last name. My car had a little problem—a rattling sound. I wanted to make sure that it wasn’t something serious and Dave’s was the closest service center. I wanted to get an answer as quickly as I could.”

“Did you receive cheerful service? Was your car fixed properly?”

“Sure, your people fixed the rattle, but the bill looks too high for just fixing a simple rattle,” the man’s voice barked angrily. “I don’t really understand these charges. There’s something on the bill called lift fees and portage—what’s portage, anyway?”

“Portage fees are normally charged for transporting your vehicle from reception to the examination site, and, when the procedure is completed, back to the recovery area.”

“You mean driving the damn car into the garage and back into the lot? I have to pay $500 for some dummy to drive my car one hundred feet and put it on the lift! If I’d known it would cost that much I could have done it myself!”

“I’m afraid that our Center’s insurance wouldn’t allow you to do that without first signing a waiver of responsibility, sir. Only certified and qualified personnel are allowed to operate vehicles within the facility. Believe me, it is for the protection of all of our clients.”

“Damn silly rules, if you ask me,” he groused. “Now what are all of these other things—funnels, gloves, and miscellaneous supplies? What is all of that about? Why do I have to pay for all of those things?”

“We have to charge for miscellaneous Center supplies, such as the funnel and gloves, to recover our loaded costs. Dave’s VTC isn’t running a charity, you know.”

“But aren’t these charges a little exorbitant? I could buy a freaking case of gloves for this price!”

“I’m afraid that you don’t appreciate the economics of our operation, sir. The insurance companies all insist that we allocate our overhead costs to supplies instead of charging for them separately. I’m a little surprised that your insurance company should have a problem with it.”

There was a momentary silence at the other end of the line. “I, uh, don’t carry maintenance insurance for my car. I didn’t think I could afford the premiums.”

“I see,” Tonya replied with a barely concealed sniff, wondering if he was just another deadbeat, wanting the government to pay his way instead of taking personal responsibility.

“I’m willing to pay for this,” he added as if he had read her thoughts. “But I still need somebody to explain why I’m getting so many bills. Doesn’t Dave’s Center cover everything?”

Tonya sniffed. “Dave’s Vehicular Treatment Center only provides facilities and support staff, sir. All of our resident specialists have their own practices and are simply certified to practice at Dave’s Vehicular Treatment Center. Each specialist does their own billings. It’s much more efficient that way!”

“But why did I get a second mechanic’s bill? I only wanted somebody to look into the rattle, for God’s sake! That shouldn’t take two people!”

She touched the keys to bring up some more records. “I see here that your primary care Mechanician required consultation and our on-call resident came in to assist with the diagnostic procedure. Oh, I see here that he also dropped by the next day to check the car.”

“Yes, and he drove it one hundred miles, charged me for gas, and what looks like five hours of his time as well. What the devil did he do, go shopping with it?”

“There’s no need to be huffy with me, sir. I just work for the billing department. I’m certain that our resident Mechanician had some very good reasons to drive your car.” She paused for a moment. “If you really have some questions about this perhaps you should ask him directly.”

“I’ve called his office a dozen times but he’s always out. They said I could make an appointment to see him in a couple of months, if it was urgent. A couple of months—can you believe that!”

“Was there anything else, sir?”

“Yeah, is there any credit plan? You see, I can’t afford to pay all of these bills at once. Is there any way I could just sort of, uh, stretch them out?”

Tonya shook her head sadly. “You really should have had auto maintenance insurance coverage, sir. I know that the premiums look like a large monthly payment, but it’s worth every cent when something catastrophic happens to your car. You really do need the coverage.”

“You can say that again. Boy, I never expected a simple problem like that to cost me this much. I never expected that it would take a half year’s salary to fix a damn rattle that probably wasn’t anything serious. And I’m still not certain exactly what they did to my car.”

“Now I know that the symptoms may have appeared to be something trivial, but one never knows,” she replied sympathetically.

“But this wasn’t anything catastrophic, nothing serious—it was a little noise,” he protested weakly. “It was just a little rattle, that’s all it was!”

“Was there anything else, sir? I have another call on the line.”

After a momentary pause he said. “Yeah, what’s this item called an ‘O & L’?”

“Oh, that’s an oiloscopy and lubricotomy! The Mechanician must have decided that an O & L was needed. I see that one of our own fluidologists worked with the Mechanician to ensure that it was done properly.”

“Is that why it took so damn long?”

“Partially, sir. You see, after we complete the O & L on your vehicle, we require our caregivers to check on things like oil pressure, compression, belt tension, temperature, and all of the rest. We take very good care of your car until you come to check it out.”

“I suppose I’ll get another bill for those services as well,” Carroll said dryly.

“Oh, no sir, that’s a free service we provide,” Tonya said brightly, glad to finally be able to tell the man something positive. “It was included in our parking fee!”