How I fired my wife

Charles here.

So I took Laelie to a morning appointment at Scope a couple days ago. Scope is the orthotics company that builds Laelia’s orthopedic shoes and her KAFOs (knee-ankle-foot orthotics). They’ve also been a source of great frustration, and since my wife has been dealing with them 100% of the time, she was at her wit’s end. Apparently there was some miscommunication between her and the Scope office, and some orthopedic equipment we thought was being manufactured wasn’t being manufactured at all. (The office staff at Scope are not exactly grade-A communicators.) Alexis was ready to  fire Scope entirely and find some other orthotics company. So I had to come in and meet with our CPO (don’t really know what it stands for) to try and straighten things out. I called him before I came in, and it seemed like we were going to be able to work something out.

The crackerjack office team at Scope told Alexis–twice–that our appointment was Thursday at 10:00 a.m. sharp. So naturally when I arrived at Thursday at 10:00, I was 24 hours late.

 “Your appointment was yesterday,” the lady at the counter tells me. I politely insist that it was today. “We tried to call you,” she says. At what number, exactly? She recites my cell number back to me as one of the numbers they have on file. I look down at my cell phone. No missed calls. No voice mails. I stare at this marvel of organization quizzically. Does pure, cold competence run in her very veins? I wonder. “We’ll have to reschedule you,” she says.

After an embarrassing interlude in which I march disgustedly out of the room and  call my wife to verify that the appointment is, in fact, on Thursday, I come back to the same lady and insist that the appointment was today. “We’ll try to fit you in,” she says. “Have a seat; you may be a while.” Have a seat! There is no end to the hospitality offered by the Scope office staff!

Luckily, the CPO in the back is a sympathetic man, or else he has spoken to my wife on the phone one too many times, because he calls me in almost immediately. He’s going to take our KAFOs and attach the bottoms of some old orthopedic shoes to them, so we can affix a bar to Laelia’s KAFOs. It will be just like what we asked for–only better. He’s a good guy. I walk away with a feeling that we’re going to work things out with Scope after all.

Then I check my voice mail. Alexis has called while I was meeting with Scope. “I filed a complaint with the central Scope office,” she says. “I outlined all the abuses of the last few months.”

It’s at this point that I realize I’ve seen this play before. Laelia grows up and falls in love at 16 with the son of some Scope employee. Things seem to be going well for awhile, until Mercutio gets killed, and then events escalate until both lovers kill themselves with an overdose of prescription drugs. We all wind up supporting universal health care.

So I call Alexis up and tell her she’s fired. She is not to call Scope again. She is not to go to Scope ever again. I will be her liaison to Scope, for all intents and purposes. If it means I need to get time off work, so be it. I will handle this. She sounds relieved, if anything.

The CPO calls me up a couple hours later, investigating the complaint from the central office. He’s happy to apologize to my wife, if it would help make things right. No, no, I reply, that will be fine. I’ll handle it. You won’t be  talking to  her ever again.

Leave a Reply