rand plan of checking out the zoo. The weather was sunny but not too hot. There was a nice breeze shuffling the leaves in the green forest outside our apartment. Greg was free for the day, as he had completed his orientation. We both start our fall classes Monday, the 30th, so it was a perfect day for the zoo. It's good to take advantage of our last homework-free days! Those plans changed quickly when a chain of events happened. We discovered our Farmers Insurance bill had not been paid. In the past, the money had been taken directly from our bank account. The bill had been sent to our Rancho Cordova apartment, but we had already moved out and set up a forwarding address. It shuffled around for awhile in the post office before arriving at Stan and Janet's, where they then sent it to us. By the time we received the bill, our insurance had been cancelled. We drove across the United States without insurance. Whoops.
So, Greg called a local Farmers' agent, and he said we cannot receive insurance until we have NY licenses. The zoo was called off, and instead, we spent our day in the DMV (which is just as bad as the CA DMVs) and at the home of a little, old man.
That old man was the agent. We were a little surprised when our GPS led us through a residential neighborhood and directed us to stop before a quaint house. Greg called the agent, and he confirmed that he worked from his home, so he came out and led us inside and down the stairs to his office.
Greg and I then sat through a few hours of wasted time in that office. The agent, Owen Campbell, didn't seem to know what he was doing, and we spent the first hour and a half sitting there on hold while Owen tried to contact Farmers in California. I was in an old chair with faded, flower-patterned cushions. I stared at the lumpy green carpet an
d the wood, paneled walls as I twisted the ends of my hair and waited in boredom. At one point, Owen had to go find a folder with some information in it, and Greg took the opportunity to lean over and ask me, "How do we get out of this?"
To make a long story short, Greg ended up talking to a woman with Farmers, and he signed in on Owen's account. Greg had to find out Owen's account information from a different Farmers source. After quite a long process, we printed the information. Owen was whipping the pages off the printer and handing them to Greg, despite Greg's efforts to tell him to wait until all the pages had printed before picking them up. Greg ended up with a
messy pile of pages to sort through. We then had to show Owen where he needed to sign as our official Farmers agent. As we stood up to go (much to my relief), Owen said he was so grateful for smart people like us. He then started to tell us about his grandchildren, but his wife had been cooking dinner for the past hour or so while we sat in that old, carpeted room that was in desperate need of a makeover, so he headed upstairs. As we took our leave, I heard him tell his wife that we had pretty much done the whole thing for him.
Owen was a nice man. I'm glad we met Owen. But honestly, Owen should not be a Farmers agent. When we get in the car, Greg told me the woman
he worked with on the phone kept apologizing for this experience. We weren't mad though. We didn't make the zoo, but we met a good-hearted Owen who clearly loved having some company.
By the way, since we have our NY licenses, I think we can say we are officially New Yorkers :)
Next step: New license plates!
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