Part 2 of 2

And part 2, if you have OCD about doing things strictly in order of the correct time, you should read the next entry first and come back to this one...if you have no hang ups....carry on friends.

And then, there was today. On my way to get Carli for swim lessons, I decided to stop at Old McDonalds to get Carli and extra healthy meal ;). When I pull out, I go through the parking lot by the Gold's Gym (used to be Food 4 Less, for you old Kearns folks) and as I am driving, I see this SUV coming at me...slowly but surely. So I start to blow my horn, but he doesn't care and keeps coming. He hits me...in my little Subaru Lezmobile family wagon mini pretend SUV. Alright, he mostly nudged me, he was just starting to go and I was only going about 10 mph or so ( I was following a sherriff after all....which apparently didn't care that some crazy woman was blowing her horn or stopping in the middle of the road - that's right, he just kept going). So I get out of my cute little car and I AM PISSED and I AM SHAKING CUZ I AM PISSED! So I am telling myself that I am calm, cause who wouldn't be? Anyway, I look at the car and I see it is barely rubbed/scratched whatever. I walk over to the car and there is this, I wanna say "punk ass MerFer fixin to start a brawl with me, so I totally go OFFF!!!! And start yelling at this 300 pound dude with his hefty chicky poo in the back seat and she jumps out and starts yelling at me for picking on her man!" But what really happened is I walked over to the car and looked in the passenger window and this kid (maybe 17 or 18, but he really was about 300 lbs.) is holding his chest and looking like he is hyperventilating. I gotta go get my kid to swim lessons, so I tell him "look dude, it's just a scratch so we don't need to call the cops or nothing, let's just exchange our info and be on our way, I'll go move my car to the side in case someone wants to drive through." So I move the car to the side and grab a notebook and pen so I can write stuff down. When I walk back to his car, he hands me his drivers license. I'm totally trying to be nice and not laugh at this poor kid, I write down his insurance place and policy number (Victoria something or other, I really wanted to tell him that is the place for panties, not insurance, but whatever). I can totally see this kid is losing it and is very uncomfortable so I ask him, "Do you want to call the cops? We'll just be here all night." He sort of shakes his head no and his hefty sister (who really is in the backseat) is all "no, let's just do this". So, I write down, my name and my insurance guys name and tell him I will have my people call his people. And off I go, still shaky from the whole adrenalin thing but no worries. I decided not to call the insurance guy until I have Cobby look at it...cause he is a boy and he should know stuff about this...right? WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!?! We get home and he takes a look and says...."All I see is dirt" what an ass. I knew (ask Paula) that I was going to have to wash my car, thanks to that little punk, but he didn't have to be such a dick about it. So I walked back into the house and shut the door in his face....and called the insurance guy, but instead of pushing '3' for file a claim, I pushed '1' for leave a message.
I want personalized service from the guy who takes my money...not some 24x7 bitter college kid who has to work nights because...well whatever his reason. I want to talk to Dave, he can walk me through this. Besides, I like Dave. He can't work his computer or give me a quote or anything, Cheryl does that. But I swear to god (if/when there is one) you can walk in that office without even talking to him beforehand and even though he hasn't seen you in 18 months (since you last changed your policy) he knows who you are. "Janice", he'll say "you're on a policy with Cobby, right?" and, if you aren't ready for it...it kind of freaks you out, but me? I'm ready. Besides he should earn his money, and did I mention he is nice? LL at work can back me up on this one, she referred me to him about a hundred years ago when I was in need of my first big girl renters policy for our apartment.

So, another day...make that weekend in our life. Next weekend it is dinner with friends I haven't seen since high school, a short trip to the pony races and bless his soul and everything he has...family pictures for a co-worker (which someone should remind me to ask him about how my air conditioner clicks and sounds like it's fixin to start, but then stops and then does like 17 times before it really does start)-thanks.