A little late.
Sometimes the universe (cosmos/Creator/Divine/whatever) sends you a sucker punch to the gut.
Sometimes the universe gives you a sucker punch to the gut. I hadn’t expected this, perhaps I should have. I certainly new it was going to be an interesting day when the garbage truck put a dumpster through the windshield of my car.
I don’t know if you know this, but most insurance does not cover natural disasters, acts of war, or acts of God. In this case, the insurance company is trying to convince me that an act of God flooded the dumpster, and froze it to a solid, dense block of ice. When the dump truck picked up the dumpster, the weight froze a cervo in the lift arm, or so I’m told. I don’t really know what happened, and frankly, I don’t think the truck driver knows either. What I do know is that the driver revved the engine to give the winch more power, accidentally releasing the clutch, lurching the truck against its breaks.
They tried to explain the physics of what happened next to me, something about the ice on the parking lot, and the downward slope of the ground. The upshot of it is, there was nothing they could do, somehow the truck placed a dumpster full of ice on the hood of my car, some 50 feet UPHILL of where the dumpster started out. I told them that their excuse made no sense whatsoever, and defied the laws of physics. That, it turns out, was my one big mistake of the day. You see, that statement was taken down by my insurance man, who used it as tacit acknowledgment on my part that what happened was, in fact, an act of God.
By this time, I was livid. Also, by thins time, the police were on the scene.
I was warned that if I did not calm down, I would be brought in for some mediation, and perhaps anger management counseling, which did considerable work on my mood. The police asked to see identification on of all participants, and, as luck would have it, the driver had a friend who was in the cab with him that day, and the friend was an illegal alien.
I don’t remember who came up with the brilliant idea that the act of improbably putting a frozen dumpster through a windshield might constitute an act of terrorism, but the insurance agent leaped on that option with full vigor, saying that if it was not an act of God, it might be an act of war, we wouldn’t know until the friend could be interviewed. Unfortunately, he disappeared, and given the circumstances, I am told, I should understand if my claim takes some time to clear.
With a phone call from the insurance man, the police got orders from above to seal the scene, and not let anyone in or out. A tow truck came, and took my car away. I asked where it was going, and was told it was now evidence in a case involving homeland security.
I got a bus to work. My boss asked me where my uniform was. I told him in my car. He asked where my car was. I told him. He told me he can’t work with someone who won’t tell him the truth. I was fired on the spot, and charged for my uniform, unless I could return it in 30 days.
I can’t even really blame him.
Sometimes the universe gives you a sucker punch to the gut. I hadn’t expected this, perhaps I should have. I certainly new it was going to be an interesting day when the garbage truck put a dumpster through the windshield of my car.
I don’t know if you know this, but most insurance does not cover natural disasters, acts of war, or acts of God. In this case, the insurance company is trying to convince me that an act of God flooded the dumpster, and froze it to a solid, dense block of ice. When the dump truck picked up the dumpster, the weight froze a cervo in the lift arm, or so I’m told. I don’t really know what happened, and frankly, I don’t think the truck driver knows either. What I do know is that the driver revved the engine to give the winch more power, accidentally releasing the clutch, lurching the truck against its breaks.
They tried to explain the physics of what happened next to me, something about the ice on the parking lot, and the downward slope of the ground. The upshot of it is, there was nothing they could do, somehow the truck placed a dumpster full of ice on the hood of my car, some 50 feet UPHILL of where the dumpster started out. I told them that their excuse made no sense whatsoever, and defied the laws of physics. That, it turns out, was my one big mistake of the day. You see, that statement was taken down by my insurance man, who used it as tacit acknowledgment on my part that what happened was, in fact, an act of God.
By this time, I was livid. Also, by thins time, the police were on the scene.
I was warned that if I did not calm down, I would be brought in for some mediation, and perhaps anger management counseling, which did considerable work on my mood. The police asked to see identification on of all participants, and, as luck would have it, the driver had a friend who was in the cab with him that day, and the friend was an illegal alien.
I don’t remember who came up with the brilliant idea that the act of improbably putting a frozen dumpster through a windshield might constitute an act of terrorism, but the insurance agent leaped on that option with full vigor, saying that if it was not an act of God, it might be an act of war, we wouldn’t know until the friend could be interviewed. Unfortunately, he disappeared, and given the circumstances, I am told, I should understand if my claim takes some time to clear.
With a phone call from the insurance man, the police got orders from above to seal the scene, and not let anyone in or out. A tow truck came, and took my car away. I asked where it was going, and was told it was now evidence in a case involving homeland security.
I got a bus to work. My boss asked me where my uniform was. I told him in my car. He asked where my car was. I told him. He told me he can’t work with someone who won’t tell him the truth. I was fired on the spot, and charged for my uniform, unless I could return it in 30 days.
I can’t even really blame him.