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.
That does it...
Re: That does it...
Ah, yes. Hi, Amy. :)
Re: That does it...
oh, I see what's happening here. . .
Re: oh, I see what's happening here. . .
Re: oh, I see what's happening here. . .
Re: oh, I see what's happening here. . .
Re: oh, I see what's happening here. . .
ROFL!
I don't entertain and can be very uncomfortable with people, especially sales people, coming over to my house. To stay past 9:00 (twice!) would be too much for me too. I would have had to leave the room and have S boot them before I became too snippy. I tend to get rather abrupt when strangers push my limits too far - he's very lucky that he was at your house and not mine. :-)
I can be snippy, too, depending on the circumstances.
Generosity has its rewards
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I would have given a bunch to be a fly on your wall tonight. ;-)
Perfect!
Re: Perfect!
Re: Perfect!
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*STANDING OVATION*
Encore! Encore!
Welcome home!
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Urgently.
;-)
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I´ve always known BC are some kind of crazy people! Love it!
But watch out! He may come back and dance with you!!;-)
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I HATE salesmen/tradesmen that outstay their welcome.... will try the dance thing on the next one i have here ;o)
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Oh man
:)
Next time he turns up say "Look, I've only got 30 minutes before my neighbours turn up for their Eurythmics class. Look likely sunshine, or I'll have you in a leotard faster than you can say negative equity."
Re: Oh man
Spedbug, you rock!
*blowing you bubbles*
Re: Spedbug, you rock!
Re: Spedbug, you rock!
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Excellent!
interpretive dance
(Anonymous) 2005-08-04 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)Is this "The Rubberband", Omi or Tenety?
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
Re: how in the HELLLLLL
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*laughs*
Love you, Sped.
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