The ObamaCare cash register analogy

In response to Obama: ObamaCrash Like Having a ‘Really Good Product in a Store And The Cash Registers Don’t Work’:

Yes, it’s just like having a great product for sale in a store where the cash register don’t work.  And the sales pitch was an outright act of consumer fraud.  You can’t get into the store because the automatic doors only work intermittently.  There were promises the doors would be fixed by the first of December, but nobody really believes them.  If you try to get out of line and run away, the cops will slap you with an “individual mandate” fine.

When you get into the store, you find that the prices on many of the items are incorrect.  You don’t get the real price until you reach the cash register, at which point you discover the goods cost double or triple the advertised price.  Luckily, other customers are looted by store attendants to pay off part of your tab, but it’s still a pretty nasty case of sticker shock.

All of the announcements from the overhead speakers in the ObamaCare superstore are lies.  If you complain about this to the manager, he’ll lie to your face and tell you that you didn’t hear what you think you heard, even if you’ve got it on tape.  Continue to object, and he’ll probably call you a racist.  Complaints about all of the shoddy merchandise sold in the store are directed to the manufacturers.  The manager will be happy to tell you what a pack of greedy, heartless bastards they are.

You’ll quickly discover that the dazed-looking sales assistants wandering the floor of the store – the company likes to call them “navigators” – can’t help you.  Some of them don’t even know they work for the store.  They respond to all questions by mumbling something about how the computers are down, and nobody knows when they’ll come back up.  The manager might throw an arm around your shoulder and tell you to call a special toll-free number for assistance, but those people just say the same thing about the computer being down, after wasting an hour of your time pretending they can process your order.

Batteries are not included for the items you purchase – that’s another $8000, $10,000, or even $12,000 out-of-pocket expense.  The goodies can only be used in certain places, so get ready for “access shock” when you find out you can’t take them to a lot of the places you used to prefer.  

If you sneak a peek into the back room, you’ll find an accountant chugging down straight shots of Wild Turkey and sobbing over the books, which cannot possibly balance, and look worse with every passing day.  The manager assures her that he can always take out more loans to keep the business afloat.  If that doesn’t work, he’ll lock the doors of the store, pick out some customers who look rich, and order his employees to shake them down for cash.  When you can’t go out of business, why does this other stuff matter?

Standing outside the store are a band of consumer advocates who accurately predicted all of the horrors that would occur.  The cash register attendants glare sullenly out the window and growl that these people are just “teabaggers” whose protests are the real reason shopping at the store is a nightmare.  If you express a desire to go outside and talk to the people who have been right all along, the manager or his assistants are liable to run up and start screaming curses at you.  

A reporter occasionally strolls up to the “teabaggers,” trailing a sad little string of moth-eaten Pinocchio puppets behind him, or perhaps a pair of flaming pants.  The reporter will confirm that what the “teabaggers” are saying is true, although he doesn’t look happy about it, and actually seems to resent them for their prescience.  If you ask the reporter why he didn’t relay the accurate warnings of these protesters to customers sooner, before they got trapped inside the hellish superstore, he’s likely to scream “SHUTDOWN!” and race off into the night.