Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Who Gets the Letter?



My word.  I just got off a phone call that quickly became a real life rendition of  "Who's on First?"  It won't surprise you to hear that the conversation was with an insurance carrier.  Here's a little history for you. Because of last fall's hailstorm, I needed a new roof here at the store along with some drywall and painting inside.  Work has been done - although the ceiling leaked again last night but that's a story for another time, as my friend Chet the dog would say.  

During all the fal-der-al in filing the claim, I asked the adjuster once and the voice at the insurance end if this claim would cause my insurance to go up or - horrors - cause them to cancel me.  All responded with a resounding NO each time.  I was assured that my claims was small, nearly invisible compared to the bulk of the claims they get.  Well, you can just about guess...no cancellation but  - a 25% premium raise.  So, I switched companies.  

Part of the switching process includes switching my workman's comp policy.  I thought that was taken care of until I got a letter from AmTrust, an insurance company that should called Am-not-trustalbe.  Anyway. I have to fill out a form and return it.  Trouble, is the top of the letter gave me one address saying I had to return the form via "registered certified mail, personal delivery or via facsimile."  Also included was an envelope with a totally different address pre-printed. So, I made the big mistake of calling the provided number for clarification. 

Here's how that went: (I'm in italics)

I have a quick question.  (Silly me thinking THAT was true)  I have this form, and two different addresses  on where to send it.  Which one should it go to?

Yes.

Yes, the one on the letterhead or the one on the envelope?

One on the letterhead.

OK.  Then what is the envelope for?

You need to send the form back to us in that envelope.

Oh.  I should make a copy and send one to both addresses?

Yes.  Just to us.

Right.  What about the address that I am supposed to send via (here I read the top of the letter to the voice)

Oh.  Let me bring up your policy.

You haven't done that yet.?  I thought you brought it up when you first asked for my policy number.

Yes.  You just have to check the appropriate box and return it.

Well, I would be happy to do that, but there are no boxes and I don't know which address to use.  Could the envelope have been included by mistake?

Yes.

For sure?  So I really only have to send it to the place that needs the info via certified mail etc?

Yes.  You can use the envelope provided to do that.

But it has a totally different address in a totally different state.

Oh. That will be fine if you do that.

Do what?

Send it to us.

To you?  You're sure?  I won't get thrown in jail if I don't send it to the other place that requires a certified letter?

Did you say you're in jail?  Is that why you're having this problem?

I'm not in jail. 

Oh.  Perhaps my supervisor can help.

(Here I wait for about three minutes and when does she return?  Just as I am about to break my record score in Mahjong solitaire)

We don't know.  Call your local agent.  He might know something. By the way, can you tell me why you are leaving us?

Um....ineptitude.

What?  My phone just cut out.

Nothing.  Really.  Thanks for your help.

Now, before you go jumping to any conclusions, the voice on the other end was not foreign!  And to be fair, her phone did cut out periodically but I am sure she thinks it was mu jail cell phone that caused the problem.

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This is not a formal Dog Blog entry but it is a secret worth sharing.  On Saturday night You-Know-Who came home from Metro Jam well after 9 pm.  I had waited patiently for my walk, and what does she do?  Plops down to watch some PBS mystery.  I am getting so tired of them.  Those people talk funny and the stories are always continued.  I have thing to do.  I can't be expected to remember things like what cop was chasing which criminal.  There is sunshine to follow around the house and birds and chippies to watch.

Anyway, I got irritated.  "My walk" I finally demanded.  So, YKW reluctantly turned off the TV, grabbed my leash and off we went.  Me looking proud and trotting along at a brisk pace, taking in all the local smells...YKW in her pajamas!  I was happy.