Francis' car insurers point out the teeny tiny print that they've concealed under the stamp on the envelope containing this documents. It says that if your car is a write off, they get to cancel your policy immediately, don't pay you a refund and keep the money. It's an industry standard, apparently, and one that I can't help admiring for the unabashed greed it displays, so naked that it would be turned away at the doors of a flasher's convention for indecent exposure.
All would be lost except that, as Francis' policy happens to expire at the end of February, we have scored a small but significant victory over Big Business and are thus triumphant.
Just not for very long.
"What do you think of this advertisement?" asks Francis. He shows me a description of a car, so amazing, judging by the description, that it appears to have been hand-crafted by angels in some celestial workshop where love, attention and the blessing of God appear to be the benchmark production standards.
"It sounds fantastic. What is it?"
"My old car. I'm putting it up for sale."
Years ago, Francis inherited an old wreck of a car. Owing to its rarity value - most of its counterparts have long since fallen apart, and a small bunch of self-deluding enthusiasts is buying up the few that remain in a vain attempt to talk them out of their determined attempts to rust themselves to death - it is worth more than it might be, but not as much as Francis' advertisement would suggest.
Several hours later, the bidding is rocketing up, often rising by as much as - oooh, £1 or £2 at a time.
"I think it's safe to say that we should soon be into double figures," says Francis. At this rate, given that the insurance company appears to be planning to offer Francis a similar amount for his now written-off work car, we should, at the very least, be able to afford quite a decent framed picture of the replacement car Francis would have like to buy but, as things stand, can't.
"Do you know how you're going to get to work?" I ask.
"No," he says. Then adds - and I should have seen this one coming - "But if you play it on the piano, I'm sure I can pick up the tune."
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9 comments:
Cars are more trouble than they are worth I had the wing mirrors stolen off mine... it just made the Police laugh. But at least Francis is OK..
What? If you write off a car, they don't pay you for it? That can't be right.
If your house is burnt down, does the house insurance pay?
We live in a crazy world. You can't rely on anything. Not even that my comments will arrive during the night for your early morning perusal.
So he'll be whistling his way to work while his insurers laugh all the way to the.... yes well we know that one too, eh?
:0)
Obviously a fan of the PG Tips monkies from way back when. (Dad, do you know the piano's on my foot?)
Sorry to hear about the insurance scam. Insurers have to be absolute bottom of the food chain don't they?
Hope the angels are on his side and he gets a good price!!
Poor Francis. Poor you. Who will be riding Shank's pony then?
Mya x
Very amusing, hope he manages to sell it for something at least. Perhaps you could buy yourselves fish and chips to celebrate.
Crystal xx
Francis sounds as quick on the riposte as you!
Your household must be so full of witty exchanges and repartee???
Makes me feel so inadequate...
Mutley: You are so right. And that uniformed laughter...(Bad Lindy thinks differently)
Iota: They pay you for it, just in loose change. Then they laugh a lot.
Crazycath: Probably won't be much whistling going on. Apart from that, yes.
Expat Mum: A little plagiarism makes the world go round.
Casdok: Angels have left for nicer home in better area. But thank you.
Mya: I'm crocheting a hair shirt and we'll take turns wearing it.
CJ: Probably one chip per person, the way things are.
Debio: Oh, it's a laugh a minute round here. Or so I like to describe it.
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