As usual I found myself in a caboodling mess this weekend.
I don’t have a regular weekly weekend as I had for a major portion of my life. Due to the virus and myriad other setbacks, I was out of work with no income.
So, each time I have been able to produce income, I save it. Not a rainy day fund.
Early last week, I contacted my car insurance company to set off my monthly payment for another week. I had the money to pay, but preferred to hold it in my account for a few more days. Life of a broke person, indeed.
I’ve made that call many times with no problem.
However, on Friday I noticed my account was short the same amount of money as that insurance premium.
Hmm? Did they mistakenly goof up my account by going ahead and removing my funds on the origial due date, “Leaving me broke on Memorial weekend?”
My deceased father served our country in the war. I would have liked to have driven to his gravesite and laid a flag in respect for his immense service. As a young man of nineteen, he voluntarily joined the service. One black n’ white photograph, my mother has kept, shows a grinning fella standing in front of a military base in Osaka, Japan during WW II. I’ve heard some stories about how he stood guard until his feet froze.
I don’t know much, but I know enough about life to know a personal sacrifice as this deserves to be remembered for his service, dead or alive.
Unfortunately, I cannot pay respects because my insurance company goofed horribly at the worst time. How can they make such a mistake? I’m appalled.
I called them knowing there’d be no gain. I’d reach someone who listens to my story, he or she will apologize, then put my call on hold while they check my account for more information.
And that’s exactly what occurred. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. We won’t be able to further investigate this until Tuesday.”
I’m not disappointed because I made the call knowing where the call would end up. I imagine if I stood on my head, bawling, and red-faced, he’d made more of an effort to do his job.
But I know there’s a lot of training behind customer service representatives. If they can’t repair your situation, it’s them who elevates your call to a supervisor. Someone who has more authority to make changes.
It’s all game play. “Squeakiest wheel wins,” kind of thing. Or shall I say, “lowest class.”
I’m not doing anyone’s job. Period. Do the right thing, or not. Your choice.
I will continue doing my life in my way. We’ll suffer, with absolute dignity.