Re: Denial of coverage for health insurance
To Whom It May Concern:
I’m writing in regards to your denial of coverage for my life. First of all, are you f*cking kidding me? Did you really have the audacity to make the determination that my health is not “up to your standards?” Seriously? Compared to most Americans, I have the body of a goddamn Olympian. I don’t eat fast food. I eat a ton of fruits and vegetables. I can't even watch "The Biggest Loser." I always wear my seatbelt. I ran a marathon. The only marathons of which most of your policyholders can boast are those featuring Ray Romano or Snooki.
I was fairly honest with you during our pleasant phone conversation, you know? You asked how much I smoke and drink. I divided the actual amount by 7, and was most forthcoming. Did you ask me how many McDoubles I secretly eat while my daughter is at ballet? Did you ask me if I blow lines of Reese’s before walking into my middle-management job, only to sit on my ass in my cubicle all day? No? Well, unlike the majority of your policyholders, I’d answer those questions in the negative, Mr. “Risk Analysis.” Give me a break.
I want to tell you something, and then I want to ask you something. First, the fact: I am f*cking invincible. Maybe your fancy computers or mystical insurance wizards are telling you I live a risky lifestyle. They’ve probably alleged I appreciate a fine glass of wine, am president of the Banker’s Club, and have been known to speed in work zones. Maybe your internet research will indicate that I cut the shoulders off all of my shirts and skin my knees every fiscal quarter. You know what else these resources tell you? I’m still alive.
Now, the question: if I can’t get insurance, who the hell can? The 22 – 36 year old population in Denver, Colorado? Have you seen most Americans? Been to a Wal-Mart? A Renaissance Faire? Have you seen “Supersize Me?” That’s the diet of most Americans. Have you seen “Rocky?” Familiar with Sly Stallone’s diet? Yeah. Now we’re talking.
As I sit here digesting my nutritional breakfast shake, admiring my toned triceps and calves, dreaming about physical fitness, I’m doing one other thing: I’m thinking you’ve made a big mistake. I’m giving you one more chance to get your mind right, insure me, and fire that underwriter who thinks “4 drinks, 4 times per week” are 16 too many.
I look forward to your timely response. This helmet is getting uncomfortable.
Very best regards,