My morning commute to my claims found me stopped at a red light staring at the ass end of this yahoo. With a half hearted "ugh" I felt it necessary to document the insanity of some people. As I have learned over the past couple of weeks, there seems to be lots of contradiction and conspiracy theories around the events of 9/11. I find it odd as to see this as in just earlier this week I read an article in a Maxim about a plethora of other theories. These usually start with digital nerds searching video archives for any excuse to abuse their first amendment rights, or those eccentric, old-money millionaires blowing daddy's start from nothing fortune on back door methods of being famous. Apparently having gobs of money is nothing unless it comes with obscure fame in seedy magazines. But, who am I to know...millions I don't have, but eccentricities I have a few. This kind of mania justifies the need for psychologist...so I say "Go Dad, heal the world of it's mental cases and save those millions because I want to prove how aliens actually landed in New York, not Roswell, to populate the earth." Whatever to those cats.Anyway...It's too bad how unfortunate events over shadow the pleasant ones. You find yourself dwelling on the funny, yet disgusting occurrences and leaving the heart warming ones at the whey side.
Yesterday, my fist claim was for wind damage to a lady's roof. I knocked on the door, she greeted me with a smile, as did her daughter. I looked over her damages. Half of it was not covered and the other half didn't amount to more than her deductible. As I sat and explained this to her...words most would scoff and yell about...she patiently listened, asked valid questions and understood. Afterwards, she and her daughter, proceeded to invite me to their church for Easter and then extended an verbal invitation to a crawfish boil they were having in the near future. I was taken aback. Normally after telling them the company they have been giving money to for years and years is going to leave you high, and not so dry, they give the obligatory "screw off" nod and I leave. I don't know if the daughter thought I was cute, or what...maybe good people are good no matter what happens, but I left there feeling pretty good. Little did I know that would change.
I arrived at my next claim. I really old trailer in the middle of a really old trailer park. Not exactly an uncommon sight for me. I park my new car beside a truck older than I am, and proceed to maneuver car parts, beer cans, and mangy animals in my trek to the front door. Up one, two, three, cracked and broken steps, I stand firm on the temporary porch, that looks as if it has been there since the truck was new. I knock on the door and wait for someone to answer. I am greeted by a muffled "Come On" from inside. I peel back the screen door, thankful I had a tetanus shout a couple of months ago, and step through the threshold into the home. There, not three feet away from me was the man I was there to met. He was a large, old, black man...and he was completely NAKED! As he was toweling himself off, while sitting in a ratty arm chair with the stuffy hanging out in more than a few places, I didn't quite grasp what was going on. My eyes flashed from the top of him to the bottom and I quickly averted my eyes to watch a fly which had landed on the opposite wall. I ask "Did you say I could come in?" To which he responded "Yeah." I informed him I think it was going to be best if I just wait out side till he gets dressed. And without waiting for a response, I turned go the hell outta Dodge. I have been greeted with many different and unique things, from Great Danes, to scantily clad women, and I can definitely say large naked black men are my least favorite, hands down. Now if that was all to the story that would be good enough, but alas, it there's more.
As I was waiting for him to get dressed his cohort came outside to start showing me the damaged areas. I was looking, nodding, and flipping through the archives of my mind to find anything to push the vision of a few minutes ago out. Zeroed in on my happy place, I professionally proceed. At this point I am under this 28 year old mobile home, where I know there are large rats (I know, because the man told me they were there). Freaking out and crawling commando style on my elbows and knees I take a couple of misaimed pictures and bugger out. Standing up in the sunshine with mud, muck, and a something I didn't want to recognize on my rain suit, I stretch and whisper a word of victory for surviving with out being eaten by a Bossier rat. My noise burns and my eyes twitch. I started smelling something I haven't smelled in a while...I look around and see the other man standing there with both hands behind his back and then I know. This man has just lit a joint and was smoking it as if I was an old football buddy coming by for beer and dominoes. Agian, I am momentarily speechless, but resecure my happily place in my mind and push onward. I wrapped that claim up quicker than most, gravel shooting from my back tires as I peel away from scaryville, I utter a sigh of relief and cover my body with antibacterial lotion.
That was not what I would consider a normal adjustment or insurance exchange. I treated that more along the lines of I will do whatever it takes to get me out of here as quickly as possible. Unfortunately I will be haunted by this, but I do know, when all the adjusters come around, my water cooler story will be the blue medal champion.
The rest of the day was pretty standard. Finish work and go. I had an engagement part to go to. Not my first choice, but I had fun. Despite having to dress up, I suffered through it and my eyes lit up at the prospect of going to the Noble Savage, the only almost Irish pub in town, and enjoying a cold pint of Guinness. MMmmm, Irish beer on Saint Patty's Day. My very own Glenn here in town. I drank Guinness until they ran out and listened to Irish drinking songs, sung by old Irish immigrants. Not a bad end to an unusual day.
Today finds me staring out the window at the rain coming down and feeling relieved at any excuse to be lazy. I think today will be a day nerdom. Piddling on the computer, reading the paper, and maybe an afternoon matinee, solo. After a really crappy week of work, todays prospects look almost perfect. Now if I can just get those Irish songs out of my head I will be fine..."Oh, Danny boy..."
1 comment:
Your poor old mama couldnt figure out how nine one one was an inside job. Can't believe the naked man. Thank God he didn't stand up, you would have really been disturbed.
Great story.
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