“Goodness me, the clock has struck-Alackday, and…

…fuck my luck.”

That’s how the quote from the title ends. It’s a Vonnegut thing. I didn’t want to put “fuck” in a post title for dumb reasons that go back to my Baptist upbringing and former ministerial lifestyle.

By the way (this is the earliest tangent I think I’ve ever gone on in any post) I recently have discovered that if you tell people you’re a “former minister” many of them assume you DID something to be “defrocked.” People don’t understand that many of us got into the business, saw it was a BUSINESS, and got out, disgusted. They assume we fucked someone or something we shouldn’t have and got drummed out. Most of us didn’t. I didn’t. I just hated having to pretend I wasn’t dealing with depression to make the elders happy and bailed for my own sanity…

ANYWAY…

I’m presently in the middle of the worst run of bad luck I’ve ever had in my life. Here’s a summary…

On Friday, April 30, I was in a parking lot in Maplewood (MO) and my car wouldn’t start. Inconvenient, but I called my insurance company to arrange roadside assistance and a tow and called my brother for a ride home. Simple enough, right?

Not hardly.

This started at 7:03 p.m., per my phone’s call log. I called their roadside assistance number and had to navigate their phone-maze and also a smart-phone text-based link system to get the tow started–which was infuriating. It took me a half hour to just get somebody on the phone after having my policy number (which I was typing in correctly) rejected multiple times by the broken web-link they sent to my phone…eventually I just randomly started pressing buttons and got a representative. Already a bad start, just trying to get their bullshit technology to work. Used to be you could call and talk to a person…not so now. Anyone who isn’t well-versed in all applications of their phone (eg-a senior citizen) would be LOST. But after a while I finally talked to someone and at 8:23 p.m. they sent me a text saying a tow company was on their way with a 75-85 minute estimate.

So I’m already an hour and a half in with another hour-fifteen wait. But, sure. Whatever. Still just an inconvenience. And my brother had shown up, so I had someone to talk to.

85 minutes came and went. No further contact…until 10:03 when I received a text asking if I was still waiting. I replied that I was and they said I could call the tow company or insurance company to discuss it. Called the tow company. Straight to voicemail and the inbox was full. So I called the insurance company. And was promptly put on hold for 20 minutes.

A person eventually picked back up, but then put me BACK on hold. She picked up after while and said she was on hold to talk to the tow driver and would call me back in five minutes…

A half hour passed and I called HER back. She answered and confirmed she was the same rep I’d just spoken to. She clearly said she confirmed the tow driver was en route and would be there in 45-55 minutes. I expressed my frustration that I had called it in at 7:03 and it was now 11:11 p.m. Her tone shifted to irritation.

Another half-hour passes.

I get a call from a different person saying she’s a supervisor reviewing the file. She says she’s working to get a tower out ASAP. I mentioned that someone had told me a half hour ago that there was a truck en route, “was that not true?” The supervisor confirmed in no uncertain terms that I had been lied to by the asshole above. So fuck her, I hope she starves in front of her children.

The supervisor confirmed a new tower. With a 45 minute wait. By now it’s midnight. But the new tower called me directly to confirm my location and keep me advised. The supervisor called a couple times too. By this time they’re doing things “right”–it only took them five hours.

The tower showed up at 1:10 a.m. He had my car out of the lot in seven minutes. It was over six hours since I called in the need for roadside assistance–my brother stayed for five of them to get me home. If it had been Winter and I had no one to call, I would have frozen to death in that time.

The insurance company then texted me five times between 2 and 7 a.m. to ask my level of satisfaction with their service. I eventually replied telling them to “get fucked in Hell” and blocked their texts.

The next day I got a call from their customer “satisfaction” department and relayed everything. Wanna know what they did to make it right? They sent me a $25 Amazon gift card. I’m not kidding. Six hours of my life that could’ve been very dangerous were worth $25 to Liberty Fucking Mutual.

Another day later I got another call from their customer satisfaction people trying to smooth things over–by now my agent had been called, too–I explained to them that they needed to quit calling and harassing me, it isn’t appreciated, and they’ve already lost my business–the next time they call I was going to give them my attorney’s phone number instead. I haven’t heard from them since.

The car was in the shop for several days and cost $660 to repair…or so I thought…

The next weekend I was in a gas station parking lot and the car once again would not start. Unbelievable, right? So I called a friend who has AAA, who I knew would come help if she was present on the scene. So she showed up and called. AAA was there in 15 minutes. Don’t pay for Liberty Mutual’s roadside “assistance.” Get AAA.

And when the shop started diagnosing the problem, the electrical system started smoking and the car nearly burst into flames. They have still not diagnosed the problem…but I’m supposed to have some answers by Tuesday. The shop owner said, “I just hope we don’t end up having to tell you to take it to the dealership or something.” (I will absolutely snap if they do.) It’s very likely that with the ACV of my car only being around $4000-5000 I’m going to just need a new car shortly. So…that’s a car payment I won’t be able to afford for…probably 10 years on what I’d actually be able to pay.

And that’s not it. If it was just car stuff…fine…whatever…it sucks…but it’s a 2009 and it’s close to death, I get it…but there’s more!

My lawnmower that’s two years old stopped working. So I’ve had to arrange for lawnmowing services. That was so far the easiest emergency.

My dryer broke down. It won’t heat up or dry clothes anymore. (And yes, I cleared out the conduit thing.) I haven’t dealt with that yet…I need to get a repairer out, but I suspect I’ll just end up having to buy a dryer soon.

Some siding fell off my house, too. From under the roof. So. I’ve got to get that addressed as well.

Additionally a contractor who I DO NOT TRUST, but who I’m using because of loyalty to family started work on my bathroom in February (and whose first diagnostic visit was in motherfucking JUNE 2020) has been completely ghosting me for weeks. He told me the work I needed done was a two day project. It’s presently on day six (over the course of four months) with him not returning calls or texts, despite the fact that he NEEDS to show up here to be paid for the work done up-to-date… So I’ve got a new toilet and new floor tile sitting in-box in my foyer. Where it’s been for almost two fucking months. Because Mark doesn’t return texts. (My next post will contain his last name, too.) Fuck. Him. He’s a liar. He’s a fraud. He’s a coward. He’s a piece of shit. And if he doesn’t get back to me THIS WEEK, he’s also not getting paid and I’m calling absolutely ANYONE else, regardless of if they’re even qualified to do the work… I presently have a check with his name on it. I would be glad to tear it up in his asshole fucking face.

And also last week, I tripped, dropped my laptop, and shattered the screen. So…that’s another thing.

And I’ve started having abdominal pains. They started on Friday May 14. Still ongoing. I think I have an ulcer. Or a bad pulled abdominal muscle–but how the hell could I have done THAT?

It’s an expensive time. A shitty time. EVERYTHING turned to shit at once… It’s all awful. There’s no silver-lining.

It’s my birthday next weekend. I’ll be 41. And I’ll be releasing two albums that day.

And I’m so fucking unhappy I want to punch God in the dick.

So that’s where I’ve been. Yourself?

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