Like any sensible person, I shopped around for my auto insurance. Progressive gave me their rates, and the rates of several (obscure) competitors. Geico would have worked, but they wanted to go obscenely far back into my driving record and penalize me for tickets I got when I was sixteen. Mercury was the cheapest, but they wanted me to stop by an office and speak to a human being.
That left Esurance. And it really was just as easy as point, click, print. Best of all, their cartoon representatives let me sign up online, from the comfort of my 120 sq ft, windowless, concrete Berkeley apartment.
Then I moved to Las Vegas.
As it turns out, Nevada sucks.
For some reason, the DMV computers seem to think I am uninsured. For a year now, they have been calling me and sending me threatening post cards, to which I respond, “I have insurance you fuckheads,” followed by my policy number.
The other day, the postman arrived at my door with a certified letter from the state. I signed for it, opened it, and read my registration had been revoked. The Mwahahaha!!!! was unstated, but implied.
I called the number in the letter, waited for a lifetime on hold, and then a troll came on and explained the insurance company would have to have a “licensed Nevada underwriter” give verbal confirmation. The, or else we’ll flay the flesh from your bones and rape your skeleton was unstated, but implied.
So I called Esurance, waited on hold for another lifetime, then a cartoon hopped on and explained to me this was nonsense, and that all I had to do was show up at the DMV with a stack of paperwork to verify I was indeed insured.
So I called back the DMV, waited another lifetime for a troll to pop on, and was told once more that a “licensed Nevada underwriter” was my only salvation.
So I called back Esurance, waited another lifetime, got a cartoon on the line, explained the situation again, waited on hold, explained the situation to another cartoon, waited on hold, and then the phone disconnected.
Esurance called me back about an hour later and explained they would take care of it, although it make take as long as twenty days to get my registration re-instated.
Until then, I’ve been forced underground. I hope to meet Abbie Hoffman (because he isn’t really dead). Stay tuned for more on that front.