"What?" the Muse asked from over on the sofa.
I waggled the letter at her that I'd just pulled from an envelope and read over. "It's a refund check."
"That's good," she said.
"I think my car insurance got cancelled, and this is my refund."
"That's bad," she said.
I nodded. "To repeat: what the fuck?" There had been some problem a month ago with information my insurance company had on my account, and they had threatened to cancel it, but a call to my insurance agent had theoretically taken care of the problem. Apparently, however, it had not.
"This makes perfect sense," I said. "I just paid six hundred dollars last month to get my exhaust system repaired, which I'm still paying off. Of course there's some fucking problem going on here."
"You need to get rich, buy the insurance company, and then burn it to the ground and collect the insurance on it."
"A good long term goal," I said, "but short term, this could be a problem. Well, obviously a problem, really. Other than the irritation factor here, from what my insurance guy told me when he was allegedly fixing this problem, since my car is over ten years old, my insurance company will only cover it if I already have a policy with them."
She shook her head and said, "Huh? Explain."
"If I already have a current account with them, they'll keep covering my car no matter what. However, if I get a new account, which I'll have to if this shit doesn't get cleared up, then they won't cover my car. Which means that I'm either going to have to pay a gazillion dollars to someone who will, or I have to get a new car, which is a complete and total pile of ass-shit."
"Call your agent tomorrow. I'm sure it'll all get cleared up."
"He said he cleared it all up last time I talked to him. Something is fucked somewhere, and it's looking like I'm the one who is going to have to pay for it in the end."
"We all pay for it in the end," the Muse said.
"Fucking hell," I said.