Monday, March 24, 2008

Brick Insurance

After a Chicago Blackhawks game while I strolled through the parking lot looking for my car, I was approached by a young entrepreneur. He made me a tantalizing proposal. I could either give him five dollars or he would break my windshield with the brick he was carrying.

This man had a different approach than the others who usually provided some sort of windshield cleaning service in exchange for cash. He was providing protection service, albeit protection from himself. Just like an insurance company who secretly poisons you, causing you to go to the hospital where you incur ghastly emergency room bills for which the insurance company denies payment because the poisoning was not authorized by the guy with the brick in the parking lot. Then, they raise your premiums for being a poisoning risk.

Not only was he offering something new, he was eliminating his competition by destroying the demand for their service. I wouldn’t pay anybody to clean my windshield after it was smashed with a brick. This guy was a genius. I respected that, but not enough to purchase his services.

So, as I walked to somebody else’s car I declined his offer. Instead of smashing the windshield of the car I was standing by, he called me a bad name and attempted to procure some new clientele. Having lost all respect for him, I hauled ass to my car while he wasn’t looking and got the hell out of there.


4 comments:

Anonymous said...

So, as I walked to somebody else’s car I declined his offer.

Good move. If you could pick out a claims adjuster’s car, you’d have a perfect circle...

p.s. Your brick looks like a square taco salad with olives. I’d pay $5 for that…

Moist Rub said...

It's not my brick.

Anonymous said...

Fine. How about "The uncredited artist's rendering of the young entrepreneur's brick that accompanies the delightful story attributed to Moist Rub, but which was not necessarily drawn or included by the person known as Moist Rub", looks like a taco salad. Or, maybe, a box of nachos...

p.s. Does your dog bite?

Anonymous said...

Them there olives are fingers.

Is that the moon looking on?

It's a good thing you were able to skibble away. He looks pretty menacing.