One of the other things found inside the IMPORTANT folder that I discovered last week: some really entertaining accident stories.
See, back in the day, I worked for a little agency that did work for insurance companies, trying to collect money from people responsible for accidents. I mentioned that my job back then was pretty boring, and it was, for the most part, but one of the things that did brighten up my day were some of the accident reports I received. There were some pretty entertaining ones, and it looks as though after a while, I started a collection.
Most of these reports involved car accidents, but I also received a fair amount of incidents taking place at someone's home, too. Note: all of these are at least twenty years old, now.
Take this story, from a police report that I received. You think maybe the police officer filling in the report was a little, um, biased?
"Uninsured, unemployed, black, single, female mother on welfare pulled from a stop sign into the insured vehicle."
I mean, were ALL those details really necessary? I don't think that officer would be able to write that sort of report nowadays. At least, I hope not.
Or how about this one:
"Ms. XXX states that on XXX, during the evening or early morning hours, the dining room ceiling in her leased apartment "collapsed." The former tenant, who was evicted that day, was allegedly a heavy drug user who also collected and raised rats. Ms. XXX stated that the rats would run throughout the apartment and their urine subsequently seeped through the apartment flooring. Once the tenant was evicted, rats were found throughout the apartment, including several in the freezer, which we were advised were used or displayed during ceremonial gatherings by the former tenant."
Now that's quite a tenant! Or how about this Saturday night escapade?
"I went to speak to the operator of the car Stephen hit. His friends started arguing with me. A fight broke out between me and Stephen and the group of males. Stephen got stabbed in the buttocks. I left the car and we both ran from the area, and did not return until the police arrived."
Imagine, getting stabbed in the butt. I'd run, too.
One thing I have to say about working at that tiny little office: I could actually come home every night with a story or two. Whether it was someone getting stabbed in the butt or a tenant who collected and froze rats, those were the sort of stories that were interesting to tell around the dinner table. "What happened at work today, honey?" "Oh, I tried to collect money from a crack addict who collects rats for a hobby."
It was hard to beat stories like that, and of course, I can't do it any more. Still, it's fun to look back on those days, and it does allow me to pull out a story, every now and then, to laugh about over drinks.
Too bad I never worked in an emergency room, though. Now those folks have REALLY interesting stories! However, I am thinking that my general nausea around the sight of blood and other bodily fluids would have been a severe impediment.