2023-11-28 00:51:17
This story is based on real events.
The day had dawned foggy at the bourgeois mini-resort. Harry, who had gone out to take his little boy to school, noticed how the cold air of London Madrid seeped through his body. It was not a good omen, and he told his son.
—Harry Jr, what a scratch he makes. This looks like London.
—Well, as I told you, dad. “Yesterday in Fortnite I achieved an epic victory,” said little Harry Jr. without paying any attention to his father’s complaint. I came first because of my face, it was super random but thanks to the hot tips of my bros I started to compete and won. Obvious.
Harry, who had barely understood a word, smiled and nodded and then said the only thing he could say at the moment.
—You’re the best, son. What a crack. Epic.
His son smiled satisfied and they continued on their way to school. After leaving him there, Harry headed back home trying not to catch cold. The day was still very gray, and that looked very bad.
I didn’t know how much.
Mid-morning, message from the agency that managed the rental of one of its many properties. It was the good thing about the bourgeoisie in the mini resorts, ditto. They used to have Downton Abbey properties. In recent months, one of Harry and Sally’s, however, had given them several problems, and in all cases they had tried to turn to their home insurance, contracted with a terrible company and that will be remembered with infamy in history. .
It was called Línea Directa.
The first incident, weeks ago, occurred due to a leak inside the home that did not affect the neighbors but caused moisture on the bathroom wall. The bathtub was bad, so when he called Hotline, Harry thought everything would be fine and told Sally so.
—Sally, ready for the bathtub. They are going to send an expert and tell us something. I only had to be on the phone for an hour.
—An hour talking to those from Línea Directa?? —Sally asked alarmed.
—Oops, what’s going on. 55 minutes waiting with the typical loop that they play at infernal volume, and 5 minutes opening the report and explaining everything.
—That’s great, Harry. How you manage. What power.
—That’s me, Sally. Since I’m paying, let them solve the issue for me.
Sally smiled satisfied. Harry was too, but the next day an email arrived with a terrible message: “the damages claimed are not covered.”
Harry, outraged, contacted Hotline again. After waiting again for a long time, he tried to clarify the situation with the person on the other end of the line, who had no fault of his own for making money by deceiving people because that was what they paid him to do. He was still a good person, but that didn’t matter.
“Look, I understand what you’re saying,” Harry said, “but my policy says that this type of breakdown should be covered.”
—I regret to tell you that according to paragraph 142, subsection and, annex III, condition 27, your case is not covered. It does not meet requirement X. The problem is that the leak occurred due to Y, and of course, that is not covered.
—Requirement X? The Y problem?
—Yes, you know. Requirement X and problem Y. Just those that you do not meet and that prevent you from being covered.
The agent didn’t say that, but it didn’t matter. It was exactly what Harry understood. After telling Sally, they debated what to do. They would pay for the repair themselves because garlic and water and insurance are like umbrellas when it doesn’t rain.
The curious thing is that when they repaired the problem, the technicians saw that the problem (the Y) that they had claimed as an excuse did not exist. There was indeed a problem. One that was theoretically covered by insurance. Harry, determined, sent new documentation with photos, videos, and a letter to explain everything again. Let’s see if they could at least cover part of the repair.
With all this he called Línea Directa. And once again, the same.
—We’re sorry, but that’s not covered in your policy.
-As? But that is covered!
—No, gentleman. The problem W you allude to is caused by requirement M.
—Fuck?
—Hey, gentleman.
—Look, go ahead. As soon as I can I will cancel this insurance.
-Fabulous.
Neither of us said those things, but since I like to tell things that way, get the idea. That was a bit of the summary of the conversation. And the conclusion is the same: Harry and Sally had to suck it up and pay for the repair on their own because insurance only seems to serve to say that you have insurance.
A few weeks later, the second problem. A problem on the kitchen wall, cosmetic damage. Harry needed the agency that managed the property to send a photo of the damage so he could open the report. And so we arrive at the gray day with which the story began. The one with the fog, Fortnite, the bad omen and all that.
As I was saying, the message with the aforementioned image had arrived mid-morning. That made Harry sick. The first because the day was already looking bad. And the second thing was because he had not yet been able to cancel the insurance—when do monthly cancellations, like Netflix?—And he was going to have to try to contact them to fix it as soon as he finished his shift.
This time he used the web form, which did not even allow the problem to be clearly specified. After trying to explain it and adding the photo, he left the issue theoretically settled.
“Sally,” he said, looking at his wife tiredly, “I just opened the report for the cosmetic damage, which is supposed to be covered.” Let’s see how long it takes them to answer and tell us that they are oranges from China.
—Oh Harry, cheer up. Besides, you know. Since we pay, let them solve the problem for us,” she added, slyly.
—Ha. Well, I have zero hope, Sally. But hey, we’ll see.
Harry tried to forget about it. A game of Sifu was played and suddenly, a new email notification. And then, the nightmare.
“It can’t be,” Harry said to himself. I’m going to call right now.
Harry did indeed call. 25 minutes after enduring the tune at infernal volume, he finally had someone answer him.
-Hi I am [nombre dicho muy rápido para que no te enteres] of the company [nombre dicho muy rápido para que tampoco te enteres] that works with Línea Directa. Tell me, Mr. Harry.
—Hello, let’s see, I opened a report an hour ago and I saw that they closed it because I am not covered.
—Let’s see, leave me your information…
Harry gave his details again for the second time. He had already done it by selecting the necessary options in the automatic message to identify himself and establish the reason for the call, but that did not seem to serve any purpose at all. Patience, he told himself.
“I see,” the assistant continued. “You see, it is not covered, in fact.”
“Let’s see that this is very random and very unepic,” Harry said to see if the young man would treat him with a little more empathy.
-No no. “It’s obvious,” answered the young agent. That disarmed Harry.
—Let’s see, young man with a name pronounced at full speed. In my coverage, which I have read a little, it says that cosmetic damage is covered. And this is aesthetic damage. How come I’m not covered?
—You see. Aesthetic damage is covered when a Línea Directa technician has made a repair and left something wrong and with cosmetic damage.
—So they only cover them when my insurance company breaks something? Is she telling me that? It would be very epic.
—I’m telling you exactly that. It’s super epic.
-That’s good. I tell her what to her partner.
-Sorry? The fact that?
—The thing about the letter M. Click.
Harry hung up, desperate. Once again, the insurance had been evaded, alluding to conditions totally designed to never cover anything to the insured, even though, as in Harry’s case, he had been paying the insurance for that property for 15 years, which otherwise was, as I have already said, , luxurious like Downton Abbey. Harry mentioned it to Sally.
—Sally, I really can’t take it anymore. They kept me listening to the noise for 30 hours and then told me the usual thing. What if we want rice? What three cups.
—What scoundrels Harry, really. Hubby, it’s not your fault, don’t worry. “We have the same as always,” she said, accepting reality. By the way, I left the house for a moment and what an Alaskan adventure it was. And the damn fog. If the day was looking fatally bad.
“Tell it to me, Sally.” Tell me.
Fin.
***
And so, dear readers, concludes this little story that is truly true and that makes me think about what to do when I have to cancel my insurance, which if I’m not mistaken is two months before it is renewed – but I’m not sure, and I had to endure another half hour on the phone to find out.
Option one, which is the most likely, is to take the cheapest insurance you can find. Even if it doesn’t cover anything, but to have it: at least I’ll know that I’ll have to take care of myself. The two, which looks which I cannot exercise because I still have a mortgage and the house is rented, is not taking out any insurance. One thing is for sure: they had all the insurance with Línea Directa, and they just lost a customer for life.
If anyone has suggestions and experience in this regard, please comment. Harry and Sally will be forever grateful.
#Harry #insurance #nightmare #Línea #Directa