So, just over a week ago I got home to find the Brazilian maids in a state of hysteria and loving it. They were in the company of a large fireman called Dave who introduced himself and told me that my house had been on fire. I had worked that one out for myself as the place smelled like the 6th November on a council estate and my kitchen looked like Sarajevo. I was pretty shocked and stammered, 'but we've just got the place back in order after a flood last year'. Dave was quick off the mark in suggesting that we were now due pestilence and should prepare ourselves for a plague of locusts. Easy to be a clever fucker when it's not your house on fire, eh Dave?
So, all of my energy has gone into processing the insurance claim as quickly as possible and just today I got the approval. This means I can start the repairs on the charred hole which is my bathroom floor. However, I loved the final tight fisted money grabbing clutch at any straw from the insurers - just as they confirmed they would transfer payment they hesitated and asked, 'is it suspected arson?' Errrrrrrr, what the f.....???!
1 comment:
Don't tell your insurance company, but your nickname at my house is "The Human Torch"
http://www.creativescreenwriting.com/csdaily/csdart/images/2005-12-Dec/Fantastic%20Four%20-%20Even%20better%20than%20Dan%20Ackroyds%20Johnny%20the%20Human%20Torch%20Halloween%20costume%20(350w).jpg
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