(no subject)

Sorting out Paul's health insurance claim, the insurer having lost the claim forms and refused to pay the surgeon, resulting in the surgeon threatening to reposess Paul's TV, kidneys or Celine Dion CD collection (whichever was closest in value to the bill, I guess). I like Paul's TV almost as much as Paul does, so it needed to be sorted.

The phone call went like this:
Insurer: "Can I just confirm your identity, Mr Heard?"
Me: "Actually I'm not Mr Heard, he's away and asked me to sort this out for him"
Insurer: "I'm sorry, but I cant help you, I can only discuss a policy with the policy holder"
Me: "Oh, ok, in that case I just remembered that I *am* Mr Heard. Sorry about that."
Insurer: "uhhh... ok, date of birth?"
Me :(gives paul's birthday)
Insurer: "Address?"
Me: (reads address off insurance correspondence)
Insurer: "Thanks for that Mr Heard, how can I help you today?"

Yay for low call-centre wages and the corresponding IQ of call-centre employees! Mind you, for $14/hour I wouldnt care either.

(Its all sorted, Paul. You can unlock that kidney-belt now.)