So back to car insurance and rentals (at last I hear you say). I’m still a tad concerned that I’m not covered. I make a number of calls. I’m not covered. I find a Pommie mob that acts as a broker and also arranges comprehensive insurance. I decide to go with this. To be honest it was Drunken Brian (DB) who made this decision, but I stand by him. This means driving back to Atlanta and handing back the car to Dollar and getting a new one from Avis.
So the next morning I drive the 2 and 1/2 hours back to Augusta hand back the car to Dollar and bowl along with Rental cars’ ref no and Avis’s (DB thought of everything) to Avis reception. Her, “I’m sorry sir that order has been cancelled”. Me, “But that is not right!”. Her “I’m sorry sir, but if you look right here” (her turning the screen and tapping on Cancelled on the screen), “it has been cancelled”. Me, “But I didn’t cancel it”. Her, “I’m sorry sir, I can arrange another car for you”. Me “But that means I’m back to paying $3000 rather than $1100”. Her “Well I’m afraid that is between you and the third party, perhaps you could ring them”. Me “I don’t have their number. Could you possibly look it up for me” At this stage her supervisor ( a three foot six Irishman) comes over possibly to investigate why a 56 year old man is talking in the high falsetto of a 12 year old girl. He hears the story, shakes his head ruefully and tells me that there is nothing they can do as they are all dumb terminals. There are seven people behind the jump, but none have a smart phone? Him “I’m sorry sir we can’t do that”. Me “It is not a matter of can’t, it is a matter of won’t”. Him “I’m really trying to help sir”. Me “Oh Horseshit”. Me (to self, but aloud) “I really don’t know what to do”. Hang on. Now, I know DB was using the hotel phone to ring Rental Cars, but maybe, just maybe! Oh I love you DB. He has saved the number in my/our phone.I ring them. I’m put on hold. Well, not on hold, the lass has just put the phone down. Background voices – “He is a right geezer that one” “Give over Guvernor”, “The Gunners are too good for those plonkers”. You know pommie stuff. Me yelling “Hello! Hello! HELLO! 10 minutes of this. The phone goes dead. I’m cut off. No. I’m out of charge. Me “I am out of charge. May I please use one of your outlets”. Her, “There are sockets scattered around the airport”. Me “Many thanks”. I find someone who directs me to an outlet. I sit down and wait for it to charge and then ring Rental Cars. A chappie at the other end tells me he has the booking in front of him. Me “Can you please tell them?” Of course he can. He talks to the Irishman for 20 seconds. The Irishman turns to the woman who has been “trying to help me” and tells her that it is fine, put it through. He then goes on to find out where the other chappie is. Manchester apparently and he is very confident Man U is going to have a good season. So that is good news.
I gather up my car – a bucket of shit Hyundai – luck of the draw I suppose – it is funny how you can be unlucky. Anyway off to Pensacola and more Armadillo roadkill.
• Pensacola Vice
• Mate I’ve got that
50 States of golf 