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19 JUN 04: STIFFED STUFF

She said she'd meet me at 7:00 p.m. on Wynnton Road. I even gave her clear directions to the spot. But the woman who wanted to meet me the other night never showed up -- leaving me again to wonder if I should give in and get a botox treatment.

But I really should start this story where it began -- with a phone call last Monday evening. "I'm with the National Association for the Self-Employed," the female on the line said. Now hold on. Should I trust a group with this name? Anyone who works for this group probably is NOT self-employed.

The woman named Raquita was in metro Atlanta, and wanted to sign me up for health insurance. Yes, I'm one of the 37 million or so U.S. residents who does NOT have any. A "you might be a redneck" calendar said it before John Kerry did - my health insurance plan is that I don't get sick.

(BLOGGER'S NOTE: You can help us buy health insurance by donating to the blog. If you enjoy this, write us for details.)

I was unprepared and hesitant to talk about health insurance, but Raquita was not. "What does your schedule look like this week?" It looked open on a couple of afternoons - but my impulsive next-door neighbor can close it with one guilt cloud inducing "I need a ride...."

Raquita explained she had to meet with me face-to-face to make sure I didn't have some sort of hidden health problem. This seemed fair - but left me wondering if I should dress up for our meeting prepared to exercise.

Raquita understood my situation, but still pressed for a meeting with me. "How about Thursday?.... How does 7:00 p.m. sound?" I was a bit taken back by the insurance agent's aggressiveness - but then again, a woman hadn't been this interested in me in quite some time.

Only one problem remained to this health insurance meeting - where to hold it. I confessed to Raquita I wouldn't have time to clean my apartment before Thursday evening at 7:00. How messy is it right now? Welllll.... little cockroaches are starting to make a home in my shower curtain.

Raquita told me she'd probably call Wednesday to reconfirm our meeting. But in what turned out to be a troublesome sign, she never called. I figured she was a compassionate telemarketer, and didn't want to irritate me more than necessary.

So now you know what led to the rendezvous on Wynnton Road last Thursday night - or at least it should have been. I arrived at the appointed place at 6:50 p.m. At 7:30, I was still waiting. Perhaps I should have suggested meeting at a
restaurant or bar, and not a TV station?!

As I write this on Saturday night, Raquita still has not called back - not to apologize, explain, reschedule or anything. I don't know what I said to deserve this. After all, I use a leading antiperspirant....

Now some other short sprigs from the final weekend of spring:

+ A crowd of gawkers gathered around 6:30 tonight on Warm Springs Road, staring down at Interstate 185. I'm told as I post this the crowd was watching a burning car. When WILL this area get its own NASCAR race?

+ Port Columbus Director Bruce Smith announced visits to the Civil War Naval Museum are up ten percent this year. It looks like those threats to turn the cannons toward downtown are working.

+ The Olympic torch was run through Atlanta, on its way to the Athens Games - but never came anywhere close to Columbus. I blame NBC Sports for this, because they ignored the female softball players in 1996 as well.

(The 2002 torch run to Salt Lake City missed Columbus as well. So why hasn't the Columbus Sports Council complained about this -- or at least organized something with Tiki torches, starting at the eternal flame downtown?)

+ The Columbus Wardogs beat Macon in arena football 46-45 - thanks to penalties allowing TWO free plays with no time left on the clock. The team had so many "last chances" that Al Fleming probably will oppose this in a commentary next
week.

+ Instant Message to Publix stores: You MUST be kidding! I mean, your new boxes of aluminum foil -- showing a picture of a foil tortoise?! Does this mean you're moving the foil next to the pens and crayons?

COMING SUNDAY: A woman moving out of town.... in the wrong direction, I say....

© 2003-04 Richard Burkard, All Rights Reserved.