Hundred Dollar Hamburger
8.30.5
A couple of hours ago, I smoked what may have been my last cigarette.
Long time friends of mine are possibly now bracing themselves for a suicide note, as I've always been such a hard-core smoker, that not much else could account for me saying this. I've never really even considered quitting. I love smoking too much.
I love the weight of a soft-pack in my hand...the subtle give beneath my fingers when I lightly squeeze it. I love the smell of tobacco, with its faint resemblance to that of fresh raisins. I love the feel of a cigarette as it hangs between my lips. The first drag of the morning. The sound of a stub being extinguished in a glass ashtray. The way smoke just casually wafts upwards in a windless room. Conversely, the way it frolics to and fro in a draft. The way sunlight passes through it, especially when the blinds are halfway shut, leaving only staggered lines of swirling blue smoke. The feeling of smoke being inhaled, and exhaled. And there's almost nothing sexier than a girl taking a slow drag off of your cigarette. It's like sex, except easier.
However...despite all of this, I am making an attempt to do the unthinkable. I will be trying to quit this wonderful, wonderful pastime.
One might ask then, why I would choose to do such a thing? Did I finally read the Surgeon General's warning? No, no...I've been fully aware of the effects of smoking ever since I started over 10 years ago. It's not the cancer that I fear. It's getting rid of it.
I grow ever more disgusted by the medical industry. I have been fucked, and fucked, and fucked by them, and I know too many people who have experienced the same thing.
I don't understand how they can possibly get away with the things they do. When you go to a hospital, you're never told how much anything is going to cost until it's too late. When you finally start receiving your bills (That word is plural, because they break the services into as many different bills as possible to confuse the patients), you start to realize some things...
For example: You might notice that the pair of 10 cent gloves that the doctor put on (to protect himself), is costing you 6 dollars. Think about that: Someone who works a minimum wage job in this country, could work an hour of their life away, and still not be able to afford to pay a doctor to put on gloves!
How is this possible? Would you go to a restaurant and order a hamburger if they refused to tell you how much it would be? If you did order the hamburger...what would you do when you started receiving bills in the mail? $74 for the patty. $22.50 for the lettuce and pickles. $3.50 for the usage of the grill. And then the calls from debt collectors. The strikes against your credit...
No business could ever get away with that. Society wouldn't let them. People would riot. Buildings would burn. Yet...this "hundred dollar hamburger" would still be more ethical than the practices of hospitals. The difference? Choice.
Nobody needs a hamburger. If someone wants $100 for one...you can go somewhere else. In a sense, it is the corporate mentality that saves people from being overcharged for these things. It's the competition. It's the lack of necessity.
This is what defines the legality of a monopoly in America: Need. The more society needs something, the more they can and will be screwed for it. Everyday, people go untreated for illnesses. People live in pain. People die.
Not rich people of course...and not doctors.
My hatred of the medical industry is only further conflicted by the fact that I currently work for it. I spend my weekday mornings shipping thousand dollar boxes of bandages to elderly people who get sores every time they rub up against the couch. At times, I almost feel disgusted with myself for being a part of it all.
But there's nothing I can do about that. That might sound hypocritical, but I do, after all, have my own medical bills to worry about. (If you'd like to know what I'm talking about...click here. But be warned...it ain't pretty.)
So, this leads me to my initial point. You have to pick and choose your battles, I suppose, and being unemployed wouldn't solve anything. What I can do, however...is try to ensure that those mother-fucking sons-of-bitches get as little of my money as humanly fucking possible.
I'm not quitting smoking because my mom wants me to. I'm not doing it for my health. I'm not doing it because it's expensive. I'm doing it for one pure and simple reason:
To let the health care industry know that they can suck a big fat cock.
