On my friend Cindy Hartman's blog, she has a guest post from J. Sewell Perkins, who describes what it was like to fight a house fire all by herself. In her panties, garter belt, and stockings.
During her half-naked adventure, she attracted quite the crowd, and her description of it made me laugh. However, I created the unfortunate mental image of the real firefighters also dressed this way, which did not.
The best line for me came after the fire was out, and the insurance adjuster ("professional tightwad") was at her house.
The proverbial straw came for me when I walked into one of the back bedrooms and witnessed the epitome of pettiness. There was the adjuster sitting on the floor going through a box of tampons. “What the heck (I didn’t say heck) are you doing?” I asked in the kindest voice I could muster. His reply? “Not all of these are damaged. I’m just trying to decide which ones are still usable.” You do not want to know how I responded to that.I've never liked insurance companies anyway, but the idea that a male insurance adjuster would root around a box of tampons for usable ones shows me that 1) he just doesn't get women, and 2) insurance companies are horribly cheap. The money they were paying for his time could have been better spent just buying the poor woman a new box of tampons.
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