Paperwork!
Ack. I got a call from my insurance broker today saying I was in Big Trouble. When my car got towed from the repair place, they told me I needed to take all my crap out, but they didn’t say anything about the plates, and I completely forgot about them. thus, since I didn’t turn in the plates, and am still waiting for the state of NY to send me the title, my car isn’t officially dead yet, and thus the insurance company is still charging me. Oy, thus, Dave the Insurance Guy called me at work to tell me I needed to come down to his office ASAP (”how about on your lunch hour? Sure, someone will give you a ride! They love you at work!”–yeah right). I bribed Terence to give me a ride. It was cool–I had a standing offer to eat dinner at Tanya and Terence’s anyway, and help plan their new party, the “Hootchie Mama” gala event at the end of August.
The last time I had seen my insurance broker was on September 11th, 2001, so I didn’t exactly remember where it was. I love that office, though–it’s a complete disaster. Every single bit of wall space is taken up with either a random picture of something (like 1950’s-esque diners, or Emma Peel), or some kind of note scotch-taped up. There are overstuffed files with hastily-written notes in ballpoint-pen scribbled on them littering every surface. On every other surface, there are knickknacks, like a collection of small model cars in one area, and a collection of Halloween docorations, like severed limbs, screaming corpses and zombies in another area. The front is stuffed with an unnatural amount of potted plants. I went to grab a business card, since I had forgotten the name of the place and the phone number in the almost 4 years since I’d been there… but what was sitting on the counter looked like a small holder filled with blank cards. upon closer inspection, they were just sitting in the little rack backwards.
A normal person would freak out at the unorthadox scene inside the insurance broker’s office. I think Sarah would probably run screaming, simply from seeing the random yellowing notes and xeroxed newspaper articles adorning the dented filing cabinets in the waiting area… somehow, I found it comforting. I know that if I were to ever run such a type of buisness, the office would look exactly the same. Besides, they’ve never screwed anything up for me! They seem to be pretty on the ball for 3 guys, plus one guy’s mom, who acts as a part-time receptionist, who keep random Tonka trucks and Matchbox cars precariously perched on top of every note-stuffed bulletin board and folder-littered shelf!
Thus I spent exactly 0.5 seconds actually doing the paperwork (I just had to sign my name) and the rest of the time watching this movie on a huge tv perched atop some filing cabinets which seemed to star Clint Eastwood, william Shatner, and some guy with an awful fake-Russian accent in a movie involving fighter jets. Anyway, that’s all taken care of. thank goodness!
Afterwards, I went to Terry’s and Tanya’s and they fed me and pumped me full of booze. Their place is pretty cool-it’s all cheezy 70’s textured wallpaper featuring a sedate pattern of ferns. It has a fireplace, complete with fake logs! It would be very Sherlock Holmes-oid with its dark panelling and austere arrangement if it weren’t for the fact that it’s probably housed college students for the past several decades. Terence and I sat ont he porch and talked about Old Skool rap, and what needed to be on the mix for the Hootchie Mama party (”Ass and Titties,” “Do Me,” “Baby got Back” etc. are on the *definite* list). Tanya cooked up a mean dinner of kielbasa and potatoes and collard greens and spinach, and afterwards, we shot the shit about various things. It was good to see those homies again! I haven’t seen them in a couple of months!
Tanya and I both decided that it’s good to be back in Allston. Allston rocks. Yay! Neighbors!
