Greasy

 

There are three vocations in life I simply detest; jewelers, telemarketers, and auto insurance agents, are on the top of my list.

Jewelers exploit the joy of marriage and the angst of holidays with over-priced metal and stones from the dirt on which you are standing.  They smile as they hand over rings and bracelets and watches while convincing you this moment is special and needs to be remembered.

Of course you remember that moment every month when the payment is due, for the next seven years.  But I digress.

Then there are telemarketers.  They call when you least expect it, and pretend to be offering you a service you need; you don’t.  Their spiel goes like this: “I’m Ted from…”

Click.  This is when I abruptly hang up.

They are using your time on your phone to steal your data minutes to annoy you.  There’s a special place in Hell for them, and I want to be the warden.

Rounding out the top three are insurance agents.  Auto insurance agents are arrogant, smarmy, narcissistic, greasy, smelly, leisure suit-wearing, hair comb-over, yellow teeth, douchebags, for which I have a mild disdain.

Since I began driving, these jerks have been doing all the driving for me.  They steer the insured toward very expensive options for personal injury, bodily injury, comprehensive, collision, and fire.  Theft is another option they won’t mention unless your car was stolen, at which point you’ll receive a free lecture on why you should have bought it.

At one time, I had a rare antique car.  Someone stole the windshield.  You read that right – stole it from the car.  It was hard-to-find and expensive. The insurance agent began his free lecture at that time.  It didn’t help my blood pressure.

Recalling another instance was when a snowplow kicked up a stone and put a pebble divot in another windshield of mine.  I got is fixed and sent the bill to my insurance company.  My agent at that time gave birth to puppies on his office floor over the $100 bill.

That was a free lecture that wasn’t free.  But I didn’t care.  Over the years I likely spent enough for car insurance to buy General Motors.  One little claim sent Allstate over a cliff, though.

But it was always the “age” thing that got my underwear in a bunch.  As a young man, I was charged and “extra” premium.  That was because young men were dangerous on the roads.  The bonus is that when I reached my mid-twenties, my premiums would drop.

The exception to that rule is that the baby-boomers were such a large group a slush fund was needed to cover the anticipated higher costs.  Sure.

Then when I was married, my rates would automatically be reduced.  But they weren’t automatically reduced inasmuch as I now had a newer vehicle whose replacement cost would be prohibitive.

Rest assured, though, when I retired my rates were guaranteed – GUARANTEED – to make Ripley take notice.  Alas.

Since I was now older, my reflexes were thought less than that of one of those exuberant young men in their teens and early twenties.

Just as an aside, many insurers “bundle” to lower your costs to insure your vehicle, boat, home, helicopter, and trampoline.

Unfortunately, many insurers – including Allstate – refuse to insure homes in Florida.  That means bundling rates don’t apply.

I’m delighted the arrogant, smarmy, narcissistic, greasy, smelly, leisure suit-wearing, hair comb-over, yellow teeth, douchebags, are finally getting theirs with the guvment putting the squeeze on them through health insurance bills.

Soon they’ll be able to get telemarketer jobs since they’re already qualified.