Things that go Thump on the Petrol Forecourt

Bloody hate Insurance Companies.
A Lorry very thoroughly reversed, at high speed, into my Golf last week.
Had stopped at Petrol Station for some water. For the car. Not me.
At the time of Impact wasn't in car. Was staring into the boot of the car, trying to work out what I could clean my hands on, having twisted off Filthy Water Cap in front of car.
The choice was not good.
Youngest's clean trousers, or Pristine White Shirt about to go to charity shop.
Had decided on bit of rather unpleasant carpet lurking around in boot when suddenly heard Almighty Crash.
My car.
Thumped into by Vast Lorry.
Reversing.
On emerging from boot and Quandry about dirty hands, was astonished to see Huge Lorry disappearing out of petrol station at High Speed.
Was naturally somewhat Cross. So legged it after Said Lorry and shouted some really rather rude words at the driver. Who stopped.
Uh, oh, I thought. Road Rage and all that.
Man opened the door of lorry cab and asked me politely what the matter was.
Stuttering and Red with Rage (road?? not sure, more like Concrete Forecourt of Petrol Station Rage) I told him what had happened.
Words like Sodding, Bloody, and even, yes, even the F word were used. I hang my head in shame.
Kind driver leaped out and inspected damage. Which was quite a lot really.
Bashed in lights and bits of car. Suspicious looking liquid making its way merrily across the concrete.
'Oh,' he said. 'Sorry.'
Some time later, having exchanged numbers, details and all that sort of what not, limped home in poor little car, feeling Considerable Irritation at all the extra work this was going to mean.
Well.
Extra work?
EXTRA WORK???
Have spent HOURS AND HOURS telling people on the phone what happened. Why. When. How. Who. What. Whither. Etc. (Also told Family, friends, people in shop, people in hairdresser, people queuing in post office, school run friends and man who came to sweep the chimney)
FINALLY car was taken to garage. Done. Sorted.
Nope.
Not.
Nada.
Non.
No.
Car remained in garage for a few days. On holiday? Short break? Bargain vacation?
Nope.
Just doing Nothing.
Rang Garage. Rang Insurance Company.
Rang Garage. Rang Insurance Company.
Rang Garage. Rang Insurance Company.
Rang Garage. Rang Insurance Company.
Talked to lots of different people and told them all exactly the same thing. Four times.
Was told that car would 'receive an estimate in the next 24 hours.' That I couldn't have a courtesy car as car wasn't actually 'Being Repaired Yet'.
Right.
Finally Flipped.
On being told that car would be in garage for another seven to ten days... told nice lady at end of phone to Please Find Your Supervisor as I am Most Displeased with the Service I was Most Decidedly Not Getting.
'Sure,' said Lady, quite Curtly I thought, while I listened to yet more Calming Down Those Bastard Customers Music.
You know, tinkly sort of Soothing Sounds. Which are Really Irritating.
Well.
Supervisor came on and Soothed. For a while.
In a Supervisory sort of way. After several minutes of Inane Soothing said goodbye.
When got Phone Call.
The other Insurance Company, called Zurich, rang to give me the very welcome news that Said Lorry admitted to being at fault and would Give us the Lolly. As it were.
Marvellous.
And then they said... would you like a Courtesy Car? (Courteously)
Yes! I said.
When! they asked.
Monday! I said.
Sure! they said.
Thanks! I said.
No problem! they said.
Bye! I said.
Bye! they said.
Well. You could have knocked me down with a feather. And within ten minutes another kind man had rang, from a Car Hire Company, to say my car would be with me on Monday morning.
Done.
Honestly.
Love other people's Insurance Companies!
Have decided that will create Superb Music Listening CD especially for my Insurance Company. To listen to when they need to ring Me.
Will say hello to them. And then will politely ask them to Hold, and then switch on Mind Numbingly Dull Tune. Which they will have to listen to while I make a cup of tea and go to the Lavatory.
Will then return, apologise for the wait, and make them hold Just Once More while I de-flea the cat.
That should do it.
Oh, and will then say that I can't do it. Whatever it is that they want me to do.
And hang up.

Can then sell CD on Itunes and make a fortune.
Call it The Waiting Game.
Anyone want one?