“They sent me a damn adjuster that wuddent any olderan you.”
“Yeah, well. He pissed me plum off! Plum off! Kenny had to sit me down at one point. He pissed me off something about your sister I don’t even remember what it was about.”
I can guess the young whippersnapper told her that my dead sister’s half empty bottles of shampoo, no doubt taken by the thieves, weren’t worth reporting.
“And the first thing out of his mouth, I completely disagree with! Said this place was livable.”
“Well, mom, why don’t you think it is?”
“Ya cain’t even walk through here!”
“That’s no different than before, is it?”
*Cackles laughing* “Yer so funny. You always did make me laugh.”
Let me show you something, puppies. Last summer I contacted TLC, the TV network, to see if I could get Mama on “Hoarders.” They didn’t think she was extreme enough (lawd help someone more extreme), but part of the application naturally dictated that I send in pictures of her house. These were taken well before this burglary:
Get the picture? All eight rooms look just like that. You can’t even get into the master bath, any of the walk-in closets, or one of the bedrooms AT ALL. You can’t shut ANY of the interior doors because there is stuff piled up on the floors to the point that the doors won’t swing. How on Earth would the homeowner even know what was missing from this place, let alone some poor insurance adjuster?
“He dudn’t know who he’s dealin’ with! I am a disabled single woman.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I cain’t even walk through there!!”
“OK, so what’s the next step?”
“I gotta fill out all this paperwork, and find a fax machine to get it to him. List ever-thing they took! I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Well, you don’t have anything else to do. It won’t take that long.”
“Alright honey, I just wanted to letcha know what he said. I have a feelin’ this is gonna be an uphill battle. But, I’m tougher’n he is! He don’t know who he’s dealin’ with!”
Bless that poor man’s heart. I hope Allstate promotes him.