No, Really, I'm Right

Today I delivered a mattress pad to a lady in San Rafael. When I was on the phone with her to make the appointment she asked if we had any foam seat cushions.

Me: No, all we have are gel seat cushions.
Her: How much are those?
Me: Around $250.
Her: I don't want gel. I want foam. Do you have any foam?
Me: No, just gel.
Her: Not gel, foam.
Me: Sorry, we don't have foam cushions.
Her: Ok, just the pad then.

I went to her apartment and set up the gel pad, and half way through the 20 pages of Medicare paperwork we got to the following tricky sentence:

"By signing below I waive the right to have Medicare send the payment for the delivered product directly to me."

And she didn't sign it. So I explained that she needed to sign that line so we could get Medicare to pay us for the pad, and not have Medicare pay her, and then have her pay us. That signature saves a lot of time and effort for everyone.

She read the sentence out loud and then said, "See? If I sign this they send a check to me."

"No," I say, "you have the right to have Medicare send the check to you. But by signing this you waive that right and Medicare will send the check to us."

"I don't think so." She said and proceeded to read the sentence out loud again and then look at my with a triumphant expression on her face.

Finally I gave up trying to explain and just said that I really needed her to sign the form, otherwise I can't deliver her pad.

"Okay," she said in the tone of one humoring a two year old who wants wear his underpants inside-out. "I'll sign it, but I don't think you're right."