Marty had been anticipating a colorful fall, what with all the rain they’d been getting all year. Or was it that too much rain made it less colorful? Now that he thought if it, Marty wasn’t sure; and isn’t that just the way? Sometimes you can just think your way into more confusion.
Fall turned out kind of unusual, though. There were some dandy trees all right, red and orange maples, and those yellow whatchyacallums. He saw a nice deep red one down the block, actually almost purple; whatever it was. Some years Marty was drawn towards the most pure red trees, but this year he decided his favorite was a maple (he thought), that still had green edges on the orange leaves. He liked that effect, pick up one leaf and you had all the colors right there; the whole story. But the thing that was odd was these nice trees were scattered, and in between were a whole bunch of green and brown trees – those were mostly what he saw. It wasn’t anything to write home about. The leaves seemed to hang on a long time too, until in early November most of them fell within 48 hours.
Now the wind had blown enough that Marty had several leaf piles to contend with. He has his choice of tools, a leaf-vac, a couple old rakes, and even a few leaf bags left over. But it was kind of cold and was starting to get dark, so he chose speed over finesse. His mulching mower started with some effort (any later in the year and any colder, and that wouldn’t be a given).
So Marty started along the ditch, back and forth. It wasn’t perfect, but the leaves were mulching up into small bits pretty well. Then he turned a corner and prepared to do battle with a big pile along the side of his driveway.
He just about had it done, and was pondering which part of the yard to mow next. He never saw the hidden rock, but he did hear the POW! Marty did what any of us would do, he let go of the handle and the mower stopped.
Marty was confused; he knew from the sound that something substantial had been hit, but where was it? He looked along the base of the garage door, and didn’t see any damage. He thought, “Well, check the car, then”, and walked around kind of bent down looking at the tires. He looked underneath the car to see if he could find the offending object. Nothing…wait, that rock wasn’t there before. He picked it up; it was about the size of his fist, with maybe a chip knocked out of it. Straightening up, he saw where it had hit.
Shattered auto glass has an interesting look to it, but what a mess anyway. There was nothing for it but to go inside and call his insurance agent. They would probably cover the repairs, but he would have to pay the deductible. All in all, kind of a tough and expensive way to get out of lawn work.
Marty called his agent, who gave him the 1-800 claims number. He then called in the claim…oh, they’ve heard that scenario before. Yes, the repairs would be covered – minus the deductible; and three estimates were needed. And Marty now had a claim number in case he needed to call back.
The next day Marty made the rounds of the local auto body shops. The first guy pointed out the crack in the door panel where the rock first hit, before shattering the glass. That would have to be replaced and painted too. Then it was on to the second shop, and the third. All the estimates were close, so he decided he’d use the closest shop.
First, a call to the insurance company to report the estimates…but it was Friday afternoon and was it that late already? Everybody at the headquarters had apparently gone home for the weekend.
Monday, Marty got through to the insurance people again, and asked if an adjuster had to come out to look at the damage. No, the rapid response team could determine what was needed if Marty took the car back to the shop and had them send photographs. He was told an email address to give to the man at the shop.
At the shop, the man used a digital camera and a computer in the office to do exactly that. Marty could see the images on the screen and assumed all was well with the email. Help was on its way. The man at the shop said he would call Marty when he heard from the insurance people.
One week later, Marty still hadn’t heard anything. So he called the insurance company and talked to someone else. That man opened the computer file…no, no photos had been received…
Back at the shop, he had the shop man double check the email address, and oh…it was exactly right. Well, he sent the photos again, and Marty said he’d wait an hour and call the insurance people back. The man told Marty, “You’ve been really patient”. Well, at least there was that.
One hour later, at home, Marty had the same insurance guy on the phone again. He said he’d opened the new email from the shop, and no photos. He asked Marty for the number to the shop, which Marty gladly gave. Let them figure it out. That was yesterday.
This morning, Marty got a call from a lady at the insurance company, and they had agreed to an amount for the repair. Marty was glad to hear it, and wasted no time taking his car to the shop. A work order was made, and he handed over the key; then a short walk home on a beautiful, unseasonably warm November day.
So now Marty awaits the call that his car is ready. It may be Friday, or it may be Monday; for sure before Thanksgiving. Speaking of which, Marty’s really thankful he wasn’t standing in the way of the projectile the other day when the glass broke. And at least he’s got a kind of interesting story out of it. He thought, “What I ought to do is put this on the internet somewhere”. But he wasn’t sure how he felt about having his name connected to this mess. Well that was easy enough, wasn’t it? He could use an assumed name…call himself Bob, maybe.
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