![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Look! A *real* journal post (not a meme, not a quiz!)
Mr. Bug's company is offering disability insurance to its employees. There's the option to buy group disability insurance or go solo and buy an independent policy. Because there's more than one option, the insurance agent has come to our home to show us all his boring booklets and share all his boring factoids. Insurance. Necessary, yes. Thrilling, no.
Because of our schedules, the insurance agent has come to our house at 8pm on two separate nights. Both nights he didn't leave until 10pm. As I've probably mentioned before, I'm not a very social person. He's a very nice guy and easy to talk to, in general, but at 10pm there are few people I want remaining in my house other than my immediate family (unless it's a party). So, the last time he was over, I was getting a little stir crazy sitting there listening to his spiel.
Finally, at about 9:45pm, I couldn't take it anymore and laid my cards out on the table. "It's best you leave the information and let me read it because I just don't absorb spoken instructions and information well. You'd have a better chance of me understanding it if you sang it to me." I don't remember how it degenerated so quickly but after a bit of witty interchange, I proclaimed, "To tell you the truth, when it comes to stuff like this, you'd be better off explaining it through interpretive dance."
"Interpretive dance?" he exclaimed, in disbelief.
Can you guess what I did?
Yes. I got up from the table and did a short, interpretive dance that represented disability insurance. I tippy-toed sideways toward the refrigerator, arms over my head. Then, I did a lurching, jerking movement to represent an injury before doing a "I'm lame", limping dance toward the counter. There, I changed roles and did a small ballet step while miming someone giving out cash. Changing roles, again, I became the disabled dancer and accepted the money with a gasp, smile and a short, jubilant dance back to my chair.
To give credit where it's due, the insurance agent just laughed. Earlier in the meeting, I had commented that he must meet a lot of "odd", interesting people in his line of work. I think I became one of them.
Because of our schedules, the insurance agent has come to our house at 8pm on two separate nights. Both nights he didn't leave until 10pm. As I've probably mentioned before, I'm not a very social person. He's a very nice guy and easy to talk to, in general, but at 10pm there are few people I want remaining in my house other than my immediate family (unless it's a party). So, the last time he was over, I was getting a little stir crazy sitting there listening to his spiel.
Finally, at about 9:45pm, I couldn't take it anymore and laid my cards out on the table. "It's best you leave the information and let me read it because I just don't absorb spoken instructions and information well. You'd have a better chance of me understanding it if you sang it to me." I don't remember how it degenerated so quickly but after a bit of witty interchange, I proclaimed, "To tell you the truth, when it comes to stuff like this, you'd be better off explaining it through interpretive dance."
"Interpretive dance?" he exclaimed, in disbelief.
Can you guess what I did?
Yes. I got up from the table and did a short, interpretive dance that represented disability insurance. I tippy-toed sideways toward the refrigerator, arms over my head. Then, I did a lurching, jerking movement to represent an injury before doing a "I'm lame", limping dance toward the counter. There, I changed roles and did a small ballet step while miming someone giving out cash. Changing roles, again, I became the disabled dancer and accepted the money with a gasp, smile and a short, jubilant dance back to my chair.
To give credit where it's due, the insurance agent just laughed. Earlier in the meeting, I had commented that he must meet a lot of "odd", interesting people in his line of work. I think I became one of them.
how in the HELLLLLL
SpedBug -- you darling, darling girl. You are my idol.
And although the interpretive dance comments were funny in and of themselves, after reading this, they're doubly so.
Big
Wet
Smooches
(BWS)
Re: how in the HELLLLLL
Wet
Smooches
I'm not even going to wipe that off; that's how much I wuvvums you!
(PS - You know what I like about LJ? The fact that I can say all the cliquey, favoritism things I want without feeling they're being tallied).
Re: how in the HELLLLLL
Me friggin too :)