At last it appears, the demand for a pound of geld for the pound of flesh the wave removed. I’ve known it’s been out there, looming in the distance, churning through the great foam of our efficient free market. And now, with the end of things, it arrives.
It’s not a surprise or disappointment. Insurance cuts it down as expected. Having just put a thousand bucks in my car I am reluctant to shell out more for my own care and treatment.
There are no more discounts or delays or deferrals or wheedling or excuses. This isn’t something I can squeak out of. Squeaking out was two months ago, when I got up with all my teeth and no holes in my head. I’ll pay it, but tomorrow.