Italics represent my actual thoughts at the actual time as recorded by the “Actual-Thoughts-At-The-Actual-Time-Recording-Device”.
BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!
Dante: “Good afternoon, Randomly Targeted Insurance Brokers.”
Mrs. S: “Dante Subjecttoabuse, please.”
Dante: “Speaking.”
Mrs. S: “Hi Dante, it’s Mrs. Sphinctercranium.”
Dante: “Oh hi, how are you?”
(I remember you. Your husband is dumb as a post, and you barely have the intelligence of the concrete the post is planted in.)
Mrs. S: “Good. I got the auto application in the mail that you made up for us, and I have some questions.”
Dante: “Sure, go ahead.”
(What’s a car? That’s what she’s going to ask me. I just know it)
Mrs. S: “Why is there a 1989 Volvo on our application?”
Dante: “Your husband told me last year that you had a 1989 Volvo 750.”
*(Okay, I was wrong about the car question. You got me there. Good one.) *
Mrs. S: “No he didn’t.”
Dante: “Actually, I’m looking at the ownership he faxed me last year. I got it on Sept. 6, 2002.”
*(See, picking up the phone is always a mistake. I knew it. Does the fact that you can hear the rustling of paper and hear me reading your husband’s note to me make any impression at all? Really? None? Well, the concrete just shot up the Stanford-Binet scale…) *
Mrs. S: “Well, we haven’t owned that vehicle in about 5 years.”
Dante: “I see. I’m not sure why he would fax me the ownership of a vehicle he got rid of 5 years ago…”
*(I’m lying. I know exactly why he did it. He’s stupid. Also, he’s stupid.) *
Mrs. S: “He didn’t.”
Dante: “Gotcha. Well, just cross that one out, and we can go from there.”
(I know when I’m beat. Insurance is the mind-killer. Insurance is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my insurance. I will permit it to pass over and through me…)
Mrs. S: “But you’re missing 2 vehicles.”
Dante: “I’m sorry?”
(I’m sorry I answered the phone. I’m sorry your parents were cousins.)
Mrs. S: “There’s a 1996 Volvo and a 1999 Maxima that we own that aren’t on there.”
Dante: “When did you get these vehicles?”
(And why the hell do the two of you need four cars? Do you just keep forgetting you have them and buy more?)
Mrs. S: “Oh ages ago.”
Dante: “Did you send me notice that you’d gotten them or call me?”
(He asked as if he didn’t know what the answer would be…)
Mrs. S: “I’m sure we must have.”
Dante: “I have nothing in my file showing that you had gotten any new vehicles. In fact, the last time I spoke with you was when I talked to Mr. Sphinctercranium, and he sent me the list of vehicles, one of which has been gone for 5 years.”
(Sometimes if you sound sure of something and have dates and facts to back it up, people will believe you.)
Mrs. S: “Well, I’m sure we must have told you about it.”
Dante: “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you fax me the information on the new cars, and I’ll do up a new application, and send that out to you?”
(And sometimes they won’t. Basically, you’re sure you want this to be my problem, and not yours.)
Mrs. S: “I don’t want to fill anything out.”
Dante: “I’m sorry?”
(No thought goes through my head at this juncture. Just a sort of humming sound.)
Mrs. S: “I don’t know what to fill out. Just do the application and send it to me.”
Dante: “Well, I can’t just put down ‘car’ in the vehicle field. I have to be specific. You can just fax me the ownerships if you like, and I can go from there.”
(I should just put down ‘car’ in the vehicle section. In fact, why don’t I just write “4 cars” on an application and send it to you like that? Because you’d probably sign it and send me cheque with the word “money” on it.)
Mrs. S: “I don’t know where they are.”
Dante: “You don’t know where your ownership papers are?”
(Have you checked the fern hanging in the atrium? It’s always a good idea to give a copy to relatives in case you lose the originals. Maybe the fern will have one.)
Mrs. S: “No.”
Dante: “Well, first things first. Find them. You should always have them when you’re driving in case you get stopped for speeding or whatever, so that…”
(In this case, ‘whatever’ means “in the event your IQ falls by a point and you slip into a coma”.)
Mrs. S: “I don’t speed”
Dante: “That’s fine, but you’ll still need to know where they are. So once you find them, all you have to do is fax them to me and I’ll fill out the application and send it out to you.”
(Yes, let’s focus on the speeding. That’s the issue. She probably never drives the car anyway. Just sits in her driveway making vroom noises. Probably forgets to get in a car before she does it, too.)
Mrs. S: “(Giant sigh) Fine. Are you going to send me the application?”
Dante: “As soon as I fill one out for you”
*(Shouldn’t take long. How long does it take to write “4 cars”?) *
Mrs. S: “When will that be?”
Dante: “As soon as you get me the ownerships.”
(Remember them? They’re green. No, that’s a whistle. Yes, it does make a funny sound, doesn’t it?)
Mrs. S: “Can’t you just fill it out without them?”
Dante: “No. I really do need them.”
(Not to write out “4 cars” you don’t. Go ahead, do it. She’s practically begging you to do it.)
Mrs. S: “Do you need the ones for the cars we have now, or do you want all of them?”
Dante: “All of them…?”
(Oh boy, a question I’ve never heard before. This ought to be stellar.)
Mrs. S: “For all the cars we’ve had”
Dante: “No, just send me the ones for the cars you have now”
(I don’t need to know the Sphinctercranium automotive history. And hey, aren’t you supposed to give those to the people you sell your old cars to? Maybe they just lose them, and keep buying more. “I forgot where I parked. How much is this Volvo?”)
Mrs. S: “I can’t believe how complicated you people make this.”
Dante: “I know it’s a pain, but we really do need that information. After that, all I’ll need is a signature and you’re good to go.”
(Yes, complicated. Find ownership. Fax ownership. What was that middle thing again?)
Mrs. S: “What’s this going to cost?”
Dante: “Well, you know the cost for the two vehicles that I did have on the application, and I just…”
(Hmmm, let’s see, 4 cars. Um, eleventy hundred guilders. Don’t say it. You’ll give her a stroke.)
Mrs. S: “You didn’t tell me that.”
Dante: “The totals for each vehicle were on the application that I sent you.”
(It’s blue. There are numbers on it. Some of the numbers add up to other numbers. Usually downwardly. Is that even a word? I think she’s deliberately making me stupider…)
Mrs. S: “Oh, I didn’t read it. I just saw that you had a wrong vehicle on there.”
Dante: “Okay, well, these two will cost X amount of dollars, and I’ll have to work out the premium for the other two once you send me copies of the ownerships.”
(Is any vehicle really ‘wrong’? It’s kind of a value judgement. Besides, you bought it. And then lost it. Or drove it off a cliff. Or whatever you did.)
Mrs. S: “Can’t you just tell me what they’ll cost?”
Dante: “Not really. Each make of vehicle has a specific model, which then may have variations. Then I have to apply the various rates, discounts and whatnot.”
(Oh, I’m sure she got all that. Why are you even trying? Just make up a number. She’ll never remember. Memory is stored in brain cells. Cogito non ergo sphincter.)
Mrs. S: “You people really make this complicated.”
Dante: “Well, we’ll get it sorted out as quickly as possible. Can you fax me the ownerships for the two vehicles tomorrow?”
(C’mon, keep her on track.)
Mrs. S: “Which ones?”
Dante: “The ones that aren’t on the application.”
(And off the track we go into the cornfields. Oooh, pretty!)
Mrs. S: “I haven’t even looked at that thing. I wouldn’t even know what to look at. It’s too complicated.”
Dante: “Sorry. Just fax me the ownerships for the 96 Volvo and the 99 Maxima.”
(Wrench the steering wheel from her hands! The track is over to the left! Wait, she’s trying to get out of the car and talk to the corn! Let her go! Save yourself!)
Mrs. S: “Fine.”
Dante: “Okay, just send those to me and I’ll take care of the rest. You’ll have the revised application by the end of the week.”
(Unless I find something better to do. Oh look! Bellybutton lint!)
Mrs. S: “Fine.”
Hangs up.
I think I have some Ativan left over from my vasectomy. It’s time to go self-medicate…
