Wednesday, October 6, 2010

I drove the Miata to work the other day because

my pickup is being repaired following an accident a while back.

The other drivers insurance comppany investigated the accident and decided to pay me off rather than slug it out, which was a good deal. They even offered me a rental car, which I considered but decided against it.

The reason I decided against it was because I really didn't want to park it at work for two weeks and if I turned it in there was going to be a hassle.

I explained everything to the guy in the insurance company office, but I really do not think that things were going to work the way they are supposed to.

The reason for this is communication between more than two people involving a seaman.

Over the years I have had terrible relations with places like banks ordinary people and businesses explaining how things work with seamen.

Take this one for an example.

I was explaining to someone that I had made a deal with that I would be in town to pick something up in ten days and dropped a check in the mail. When I went to pick it up, she had sold it to someone else.

"I held it for three days," she said.

"We agreed on ten days," I said. I carefully explained that I was at sea and wouldn't be in to pick it up.

"What do you mean 'at sea'? she asked.

"I am a sailor," I answered. "I work on ships."

"Oh, you're in the Navy?"

"No. I am a Merchant Mariner," I explained. "I move things. Where did your clotes come from?"

"The store." she said.

"And they make the clothes in the backroom of the store?"

"Well, no. They get them from somewhere else."she mumbled.

"Like where? China, perhaps?" I asked.

'Well..well. I guess. Maybe Italy." she mumbled.

"And just how do these clothes get to the store?" I asked.

"In a truck, I guess."

"And they drive these trucks across the Atlantic Ocean?" I asked.

"Well, no. I guess they must get them here somehow."

"Did you go to school?" I asked.

She tried to return to sure footing. "I have a Master's Degree from Vassar," she bragged.

"My shipmmate has a fourth grade education and he sure know a lot more about the world than you do. Try going back to third grade geography and take a couple courses in reality and learn to think," I said,, on the edge of anger. "Now give me my money back. NOW."


"No hemming and hawing. You took my money, you didn't produce, I want my money back. What part of fraud do you not understand?"

I got my money back, but simply having to deal with stupidity is a rough go.

The ones I get a kick out of are the ones that say, "I've never heard of such a thing."

I used to tell them that it was because they didn't look beyond the end of their noses, but now I simply shake my head and walk away.

When I went for a mortgage, the bank was the worst. I finally gave up and as a parting shot, asked the jerk in the bank if he had any kids. He told me he and his wife were trying to.

I told him to check the fireplace daily because the stork never misses.

Back to the Miata.

The agreement I made with the insurance company is that I could drive the rental car to work, turn it in and pick it up after I got off work. Fine.

But when I got to the rental agency they had misunderstood the deal and I simply KNEW I was going to wind up in the company parking lot when I got off of work having to take a damned bus home because either the insurance guy or the rental agency screwed up the detail.

It never fails.

Not too many people relaize that at some point of another that 90% of our nations goods travel by water at some point or another, yet practically nobody realizes this.

In order to move goods by water, someone has to make these vessels move, and I'm simply one of the guys that do this kind of work.

It even goes as far as the media. How many time have you heard a weatherman say, "The storm has SAFELY blown out to sea?"

Safely, my ass. Some poor bastard is out there fighting for his life while Mr. Weatherman goes home to a nice bed.

I thought about the slim odds of the idiots ashore getting my reservations straight and opted for a sore ass and driving all day in a small car designed for autocross. It was a lot easier than having to try and repair a bunch of botched up reservations.

I'll drive the Miata home again and when i get there I will consider myself ahead of the deal, sore ass and all.

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