More Car Tales: The Aftermath

The Aftermath of my Falling Tree Branch story was, quite possibly, even more interesting than the original tale.

Here’s how it went:

At five after eight on Wednesday morning, I filed the claim with the insurance company. Have I mentioned how dearly I love my insurance company? They make it easy: I could use my own people to do the work, not someone picked off a list they’ve already approved. No need for multiple estimates, none of those games other companies make you play.

At 8:30, my neighbor (love her, too. Lots of love ahead. Makes ya wonder how I can have a Trevor-self) tailed me over to the mechanic. Having her there was a soothing presence, as I could see shards of glass coming loose and threatening to fall from the poor windshield. I asked the mechanic for someone to fix the windshield and a body shop. Turns out, the body shop is right across the street. I thought that meant across the street and down a storefront or two. Didn’t think much about it. I should have. Right across the street meant exactly that.

Back at home, I called the windshield people. The plan was to fix the windshield and drive the car until the body shop could take me.

No go.

Turns out, if there’s damage to the roof, they can’t replace a windshield. Makes sense to me. (especially since I’d been scared to close the moon roof, in case it damaged the windshield further.)

At 11:30, the woman assigned to my insurance claim called. I told her where the car was, in case the adjuster assigned to the case was free.

He was.

In fact, the guy from the body shop had to wander back across the street so the adjuster could work. Turns out, they BOTH came back later to finish up. And yes, the owner of the body shop IS the father of the cool twenty-some Eagle Scout who spent a week at Summer Camp with our Troop. Because, you know, it was his son’s Troop before it was mine.

Isn’t this a grand adventure so far? All these people, chipping in so fast and getting to work on my behalf. But wait. There’s more.

At the end of the day, I called the mechanic. The car was done; they were waiting on the person to fix the glass. I told them about the need to fix the roof first and said I’d call the body shop to see if I could leave the car there.

The body shop told me to call the mechanic back and ask the head mechanic to drive the car on over. What service! I didn’t even have to leave the house!

The adjuster called around 5:30 to say he was done and he’d fax everything to the right places in the morning. We are moving so fast, I don’t even have a rental car yet. Picked that up on Thursday morning, then stopped in at the body shop to get my bike shoes out of the car, among other things. (Left my membership card for the Hoity-Toity Health Club behind, though. Ahh, well. They’ll still let me in.)

John, the body shop owner, told me that yes, I did dodge a bullet. A big one. He’ll have me up and running in two weeks.

Two weeks! I can live with that! I think… the rental car (and if you’ve ever wondered, yes, Enterprise really does pick you up) has about as much get up and go as a tree sloth. After six years with a sports car, this is going to be quite the adjustment…

And so the adventure continues. Know what? This might be sort of sick and twisted of me, but… it’s sorta fun.