This past weekend, I suffered a minor accident. My new van is not as snow friendly as one would hope. While driving VERY (seriously) slowly, I began to break as I approached a Stop. My wheels slid me directly into the back black iron bar across the bumper of a large semi. Almost immediately, the semi pulled out onto the road, totally oblivious to the accident.
The plastic-ish front of my van, easily shredded a perfect indention of the bar. No need to worry. We were not shaken in the least. I'm happy to report, no child repeated the swear word I muttered.
Though, I'm sure Coco has filed that nugget away for later use. Probably during Mass.
I was busy with blizzard like festivities, extra kids home from school... and it took a couple days to call in my claim. Now... the accident, the swear word, the damage to the van?? The worst part? Nope.
The worst, stomach dropping part of this story, took place during the 22 minute claim phone call.
I dial..
A very cheery, young sounding (probably pretty) girl answered my call. I patiently allowed her to do her bit (as I unfortunately suffer PTSD from two years lost in the cave of an insurance claim center.) She asked her typical questions, I appeared like a moron.
Her: Name of street the accident occurred?
Me: Ummmm, I don't know. The street by Fox?? Unless a Christmas Card friendly relative lives on a particular street, I have not actually learned road names and opt for descriptions like: You know, 1 block down from The Dairy Queen... or 2 houses down from where so-an-so's grandma lived...
Still NOT the worst part...
When describing the road conditions, I realized this young girl must have spent her life living in Arizona.
Her: Ohhh.. there was a big snow storm?? 6-8 inches?? Wow! Your van just slid right into a semi?? Wow, again!!
Me: Yep. It snowed across like 9 states. Yep, snow is crazy. Yep, tires slide on snow. I know, it sounds nuts.
16 minutes into phone call, not the worst part.
No, the worst part occurred shortly after.
Her: Ok... can I get your drivers license number. Ok.. date issued... ok... and can I get your birth date?
Me: One. Nineteen. Seventy-Seven
Her: Ohh!! You're gonna have a birthday this week!!
Me: Yep.
Her: Ohhh!! Wow! And it's a BIG one!
Me (take a cleansing breath moment, pretending not to envision my dry-scaly- winter living in the crazy-snow-land old lady arm into the phone to yank out her young, probably wearing a tank-top cheerful throat.):Yep. Sure is.
For a rude young lady, she sure can calculate numbers and dates quickly.
Anyway... Long story short,
only 4 more days until Coach repeats his famous guest blogger performance. The very mention of my birthday may cause young girls to shudder over the phone but Tru Stories followers world-wide... have patiently waited all year for Thursday.
Silver Bleepin Lining.
10 comments:
I picture her, young hot and tiny with thin rectangle black rimmed glasses and a ponytail.....oh, and maybe a cheerleader outfit on....gooooo insurance!.... thatshowIpictureallmyphonecallshol
Wait - The entire phone call only took 22 minutes? Seriously! At 22 minutes you would have still been on hold at "some" insurance companies. If I call across the large room I work in my hold time can be 25 minutes, 45 minutes, tick, tick tick, goes my life. (Because we are suppose to call, not walk over. That's why we sit on hold.
How did you figure out the street name? Looking forward to Coach visiting blog world again.
While I would typically hate to agree with Warhol, over any statement he would make about a 20-something hot girl...
I actually totally agree with his mental picture of my call center rep.... she put me on hold twice, both times I am certain she was flirting with a cute 23 yr old male rep near her... probably talking about how icky old women shouldn't be allowed to drive in the snow, or even leave the house during the day.
You are paranoid. They were talking about the fact you are driving a van and they hope they never get to that point.
this is my life, i promise the only mention of you went like this:
"yeah, i'm ready.... let me ditch this old minivan chick and we can head out to happy hour."
i'm sorry, let me clarify.. that was my life... when i was younger.
Is anyone else super nervous about Thursday's post. And the hot young claim rep must be a genious to figure out how old she was that fast. It would have taken me all of the 22 minutes to figure that out, using just a birthdate.
Now it sounds like Coach has a crush on the Hot Claim Rep because she is younger than his gross wife AND she is super smart because she can add numbers. It's like she's the perfect woman.
Dear Insurance Ignorant People: That hot girl was not a claim rep. She is just a person taking claim calls. It is probably an entry level position. You don't even get to talk to people at my & Arizona's level until after you talk to the hot girl.
Signed: Another Hot Claim Person
Oh.. trust me, I know exactly what the Hot Claim Response Representitive's job is... I still wake with sweats, recalling the two years wasted being her... without the cute voice. Of Course.
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