Sep 19
Paul’s Letter To The Colossal Insurance Company
1. I am Paul (ne Saul) of Tarsus, a saint of a fellow (enc. glowing reference from the Thessalonians, Rick and Vera), and a deeply embittered claimant regarding an incident on the road to Damascus, your file #513-4B-8012.
2. While approaching Damascus, a blinding light DID envelop me, and I DID become one with the ground, in the process sustaining multiple abrasions, contusions, wounds, traumas, e.g., my right ankle, which will now torment me ‘til the end of my days and likely beyond, though this is a matter of some theological debate. And I HAVE since been plagued by vivid and troubling Vietnam flashbacks, all the more unsettling in that I’ve never been to Vietnam. And my ankle is still very, VERY tender. Not that I’m complaining or anything.
2. And my boyhood dreams of attending matador school ARE shattered and lain waste.
2a. But how, you ask, can a sinning wretch of a claims adjuster even PUT a price on boyhood dreams?
2b. I CAN provide an itemized breakout, if you like.
3. And a voice said unto me: “O, tremendous! Why do I always get the lucky ones?” And the voice was familiar, for it WAS the voice of the Tour Director.
4. And so I spake: “If this be sunstroke, then lavish upon me rare herbs and oils, with a UVP rating of not less than 25. A gin and tonic would be nice, too.”
5. And lo I was answered, “As the hoof of the camel strikes rock, and the paw of the dog scratches dirt, so too does the human minesweeper stumble across yet another Zionist anti-personnel device! Abracadabra, that I were a goatherd, and could liberate this flock!” And my companions WERE struck speechless, even Joseph the Philadelphian. This WAS surely a miracle, as he would not otherwise Shut. Up.
6. And then the voice spoke AGAIN, harsh and loud, as through a megaphone: “Allah right, left, right, everyone back on the bus, we’re already behind schedule.”
7. And so I was “assisted” to my feet — nay, not by professionally trained and licenced paramedics, but by high-school dropouts and torturers, thus gravely compounding my injuries, the pains of which to this day are just barely dulled by Percodan and large amounts of cooking sherry. Yea, I dwell in the valley of the soft-tissue injury, and my sex life is nothing to pound my chest about either. And though my eyes WERE open, I could see nothing, for my eyes WERE full of dust.
8. And I am still missing one contact lens.
9. And so I was taken to Damascus; and there, for three days and for three nights, I neither ate nor drank, unless you count that stuff they sent up from Room Service, which incidentally afflicted me with a near-fatal case of the trots. And for three days and for three nights, I saw nothing. For the brochure DID promise “dizzy dazzling Damascus delights.” Which consisted of: a) probably the worst nightclub act this side of Tehran; b) the fabled Museum of Broken Bits of Pottery; and c) a colorful encounter with some scimitar-waving Bedouin, costing me a brand-new Pentax w/flash attachment, supplementary claim #513-4B-9023.
10. And verily my ankle WAS swollen to the size of a small poodle, but much more purple. But the Tour Director WAS dismissive of my specialness, often encouraging me to amuse my fellow travellers with “interpretive dance.” This WAS doubly annoying when prompted by gunfire. And he WOULD refer to me openly — and, I would argue, contemptuously — as a “sleepy-eepy slug-a-bed.” Thus, I have suffered Mental Anguish.
11. And I don’t know about you, but I think that some degree of misrepresentation applies when a Hotel boasts of “23 Color TV channels” and every single one of them features Bashar Assad either making a speech or reviewing troops.
12. Yet when this scandal WAS brought to the attention of the Hotel’s management, WAS it addressed with honeyed tongue and swift remedy?
13. Rather, your righteous correspondent WAS ambushed by crabby Hotel staff and/or Spies, and lowered from the Hotel, in a basket!
14. Sure, it was sort of fun at first, but after twenty times or so, it DID become bothersome and vexatious.
15. Especially when they would “forget” the basket.
16. So ask me about my vacation.
17. And in conclusion, it is better to marry than burn. Dost thou knowest of my obnoxious and loudly-dressed brother-in-law, Titus?
18. Titus of Harvard?
19. Harvard Law?
