Wendy and the insurance company

I often get those epiphany moments where I realize that I never want to grow up. Not so much like Wendy and the Lost Boys and all that, but more like... real life is not fun.

What brings about this particular moment of revelation is insurance. Not mine, of course, because I'm trying to avoid things like real life (including insurance) for now, but I've been working with my grandparents on their insurance recently. Good practice for when it will be my own insurance, no doubt, but it's a little hard to be thankful for such a wonderful opportunity at the moment.

So here's the deal: they are thinking of switching insurance companies. Not a problem, I can check up on other insurance companies for you. So my grandpa got all his information together, along with a sheet of places he wanted me to price check, and off I start. Well, first of all, the websites ask these crazy questions that I don't understand. Why would insurance be different depending on how much education you had? So, my grandma did high school and that's it; are you seriously going to charge higher or lower insurance because of that? There are bazillions of questions about firewalls and alarm systems, which I mostly don't understand and fudge.

So auto insurance: I'm supposed to know how many cylinders their car has. What? I hardly even know what cylinders are. Well, I do, but how am I supposed to know that? So then it's all like "LD" or "SS" and it has something to do with the car, but all I can think is "Lord's Day?" "Sunday School?" and that's not what they're asking.

On top of that, some of the companies ask about liters. Huh? Liters for gas? something about pressure? What? I have no idea what this stuff means. And the first time a website asked me something about garages, I thought it had something to do with where the car got parked at work or something. I was looking around for a place where I could click "we don't use parking garages frequently, y'all crazyson" but it didn't have it. And then I realized that it just was talking about where we park it in a garage. Which town. Oh, never mind.

So then I had to call a few places (felt like a few dozen places, honestly) to speak directing to representatives, because, well, the Internet hates me. So then they realize that I'm just a granddaughter and need authorization. "My grandpa's at Costco, can you get it from my grandma?" so I stick my grandma on the phone. All I can hear is her side of the conversation, which goes something like this: "Yes, that is my name... Yes... No, I'm the grandmother, she's the granddaughter... She can tell you what you need to know, she understands more about this than I do..." it goes on for a while until I get back on the phone with that particular guy, who begins to ask all the same questions the website wanted to ask me five minutes previously.

Education: "Well, Mike," that was his name, in case anybody was worried that my name suddenly became Mike "I asked him that this morning and he said that he has years more experience than any of the goons working for your company, so I'm not sure where that puts him." The insurance guy laughed. Which was good, because I'm not sure if you're supposed to tell people who are helping you that they're little more than goons. But hey, somehow it worked.

So this particular guy (we're sticking with Mike stories, for now) figured that since I was just a granddaughter, I wouldn't know anything about insurance. So he explains every little thing to me, and so I'm guessing he was paid by the hour, because I've got to say, I did not need so much background info on every part of the policy plan.

But then I was mentally speculating about his life, and wanted to ask personal questions. I mean, is that allowed? I don't know proper protocol, but he was talking about his family, and then he mentioned that he's usually in the office until 10:00, which doesn't sound like a guy who has a family who means a whole lot, if you ask me.

But, of course, none of this was about asking me.

Anyhow, after explaining to Mike multiple times that we didn't need rental insurance ("Mike, the whole point of me being a granddaughter is that if their car does break down and go into the shop, I'll just drive them around for a while") and didn't need roadside assistance ("AAA, Mike, AAA") we were ready to get the quote.

And then his computer went all weird for a while and I got put on hold. Not that I mind hold, but the suspense just about killed me. And then, of course, it was way too expensive and totally not worth it.

So Mike got to waste about an hour of my time, and now I can't get that hour back.

Is there insurance for missing time? Because I want some.