I’m going to change my name to Lady Cleo because I predicted that mama’s simple little insurance claim would be dragged out into some absurdly long, needlessly complicated, melodramatic nonsense that would doubtless last half a year, and by gum, I was right on the money.
She has finally, after some two months, prepared her documentation and, once she finds a notary (Which, you can place your bets, will take at least four days, and come with it cries of the utter physical exhaustion seeking out such a rare specimen takes) will be faxing it off to some poor adjuster. (Who, if I get his name, I will be recommending for early retirement or, at least, a weeks paid vacation.)
Naturally, she called to read me the cover letter that accompanied this list. (Which, for those keeping track, now includes a new septic system, because she believes the burglars ran over and ruined hers as they backed their armored tank to the back door and filled it with treasures.)
“Now tell me if this sounds business-like…” she started. I was willing to bet everything I hold dear that business-like was very low on the list of adjectives I’d be able to use.
“Dear Mr. Adjuster:
Enclosed is my list, which was no easy task for me. You may be able to place a value on some of these items, but to me they are priceless. Three years ago, I lost my daughter in a car accident. Of all the things that are missing, she was most dear to me, and if I could only have one thing returned it would be her…”
Yes, she did.
Of course she did.
I had to set the phone down a second and take a breath.
“…these tire tracks are clearly visible over the septic tank area. I find new items missing on a daily basis. Just yesterday, I discovered that all of the tools and lawn equipment I stored under my home were gone. My carpets have been ruined, and my furniture damaged. I think it is only fair that your company send me the policy limits and if you put yourself in my shoes, you will agree.”
“What do you think of that? Hand-written!”
“Take that part out about my sister.”
“Because it has absolutely nothing to do with anything, and it makes you look crazy.”
“Well, I’ll need to re-write this thing. This has been exhausting! I ain’t never written so much in my life. I’ve got carpal tunnel syndrome from this. Does the rest of it sound all right?”
“It’s fine. I need to go, I have a meeting.”