THE FRANZ KAFKA INSURANCE COMPANY

I sold one of my cars. Called the insurance company to remove that car from my policy. “You have to come down here to the office to do that” the lady said.
“Where is your office?” I asked.
“Irving”
“Oh my”

Now Irving may only be 10 miles away, but for me that’s like light years. Plus, I would have to cross over into Dallas County, something I avoid at all costs. After sleeping on it for a night, I decide to call back. When I added that car to my policy I didnt have to go to Irving. We did it over the phone just fine.

So I called, and when the lady said “You have to come down here to the office to do that” I was ready.
I asked her “Why? Why to I have to come down there?”
“Because you have to sign the paper” she says.
“Well, I had to sign to add the car on. They faxed the paper to me. Can you fax it to me, and I’ll send it back?”
“Yes, that will work “ she says.

This makes me happy. I won't have to go to Irving. She puts me on hold, and when she comes back she says there is a problem with their fax machine. Can I call back tomorrow?


So I call back the next morning. The phone ring and rings, no answer. I call again and again. Finally, an answer. They transfer me, but they transfer me to a phone that keeps ringing. Finally a computer answers, and I end up in a recorded voice computer loop. Its as endless as a Mobius strip.
I hang up and call back. No answer.

So at lunch I drive to Irving. I surrender. The bastards won.
I walk in the door to the office. Behind the desk is a  giant cockroach, who looks up and says "Can I help you?"
For some reason it doesn't surprise me at all to see a giant cockroach sitting there. The whole thing is pure Kafka.
I tell the cockroach I need to remove a vehicle from a policy. I’m seated in front of his desk. As he pulls up my info on the computer I tell him: “It’s a shame I have to come down here to do this. That I can’t get it done over the phone.”
“Well sir, you have to sign a paper, that’s why” he says.
“No, you can fax the papers to me, and I fax them back, that’s what the lady that doesn’t ever answer her phone said”
He nods, prints off one sheet of paper and hands it to me, using his little cockroach hands, for me to sign. We talk about the weather a moment while I check the details, and the cockroach takes a sip of his coffee.
I sign it, and as I’m handing it back to him I say “It really is a shame I had to come down here”.
“Mr. Renfro, you didn’t HAVE to come down here. We could have done this over the phone.”

Just.Kill. Me. Now.