For close to thirty-five years, I have had a career in insurance claims administration. I started in my senior year of high school working part-time in an insurance agency and from there I graduated to a claim assistant (to my first husband) and onto a claims adjuster, a consultant, an educator, a supervisor and now a manager. In all of my years, a vast majority have been spent in handling Workers Compensation claims. When I began my career I was in multiple lines, homeowners, auto, commercial and umbrella policies. I loved it. But in 1982 there was a recession and many companies pulled out of Michigan. So, I found a job with a Third Party Administrator for Self Insured Hospitals.
The downside was that it was for a Workers Compensation Examiner. I hated workers compensation. I became aware of workers compensation when I was sixteen years old and applying for a job at McDonald's. The manager hired me and informed me of the "benefit package." I distinctly remember her informing me that I would have Workman's compensation if I was injured on the job. I was quite impressed that I had "benefits." But later I would discover this was not a benefit, this was State mandated. You had to have workman's compensation if you employed more than three employees! So perhaps she wasn't quite honest with me, it was beneficial IF I was injured on the job, but if I wasn't, I never "benefited" from it.
It doesn't take long in my line of work to become jaded. You hear every thing from how some one threw their back out walking into work on Monday morning to accidentally dropping 30 Oxycontin pills in the toilet right after they got them filled and needed these pills to make it through their pain. I don't know how one person can drop his new script in the toilet so often, but it happens.
I have had people threaten me because I have found them working and cut their benefits. Recently, I had a woman email her doctor and suggested she was going to throw a cheeseburger in the air to see if I'd get off "my fat ass" and get her whatever she was desiring at that moment. I have to remember she is brain injured and I was some what surprised that she knew I was motivated by cheeseburgers, but it has been a couple of weeks now and I've still not seen it so I've remained on "my fat ass." She has also "wished" a bus would hit me. Have to say now whenever I see a bus, I take cover, never know when she might be driving the Karma bus and I'm her target.
The job of an adjuster is demanding. We carry up to 150 claims and everyone thinks they are the only case we have. We have to investigate new claims, manage medical treatments, pay wage loss weekly, negotiate settlements and thorough all of that, we have very strict time lines to manage these benefits available to the person injured on the job.
I love to help the person who is truly injured. With my experience I handle the more complicated claims. Catastrophic work injuries or death claims. But my love is in the legal side of it. I love a claim that is in litigation and the negotiation of settling it. I am very good at what I do but over the years I have become very skeptical of people.
So with that as my foundation as well as several relationships under my belt, entering the world of dating is difficult. First, I ask a lot questions. I analyze the answers which is part of what I do every day. I look for the loop holes and I delve further. I find that most men who are looking for love in all the wrong places are not completely honest yet, in their profile, they demand a woman who is honest.
I will give you some examples and you tell me, if honesty is honestly slightly understated. About a year or so ago, I met Tom. Tom was ten years older than I am with a 10-year old son, thirty year old daughter and a thirty-two year old son. He was the grandfather of a two-year old. From just that, I was able to conclude he had been married twice and his second wife was much younger. Bingo. His former wife was fresh out of college when he met her, he was in his late forties.
Now Tom's profile was nicely written, but he stated he was 5'10. He played baseball when he was younger and was now a coach at a local college. Five-Ten. I prefer them a little taller as I am almost 5'11 with heels and I love to wear heels. We chatted and we met. I wore flats. Why? Cause you should never trust a man when it comes to measuring fish, foot longs and their height.
I was sitting on the bench outside the restaurant we were to meet at. He came up from behind me and whispered how pretty I looked. I stood up and was surprised that I was at least two inches taller than he was. Maybe an inch, but I felt like an Amazon next to him. You see, he had lost forty pounds through his divorce so he was very thin as well. I felt like I was hugging a young teen age boy!
We proceeded to go inside the restaurant and have dinner. He told me his former wife was an upcoming attorney who was going to run for office and she was driven by her work. During the conversation he shared the details of his divorce, he got the house they restored and she got the new car with the big car payment. Silly me! I had to ask what she drove. His response, a Lincoln MKX. OY! Needless to say, sitting down we were eye level, but after dinner we walked around town and stopped and listened to a street band. I really did not want him to walk me to my car, but he insisted.
By the time we strolled over to my car, there were only two cars parked on the street. An older Pontiac four door sedan and my brand new Lincoln MKX. He started to walk me toward the Pontiac. "Excuse me, but that one would be mine, the big ass car payment white MKX." I didn't watch him walk to his car, but I'm sure he hopped as his foot was firmly stuck in his mouth.
Of course no story is complete without Curb Side. Curb Side bragged about his habit of working out every day and how fit he was. I believe athletic and TONED were the words used to describe this Shrek of a man. Toned might be the operative word that I am overlooking. Men may think if they "work out" or play ball, they are athletic but the two do not go hand in hand or at least in the world of looking for love in all the wrong places.
Curb Side was 6'5. No doubt about it. But he resembled Mr. Potato Head with toothpick legs. I understand many men have larger torsos compared to their legs, but to brag that you are "buff" and that you wear the same waist size as you did in high school, well, shut my mouth, I couldn't resist but to ask, "Did you wear your pants around your knee caps back then?" I just wasn't buying his rather large waist was the same size as in high school. First, and ladies, you know what I am talking about, if you look at a man and you can't see his belt because it is hidden, he's a low rider and his pants haven't seen his waist line in a while. Again, all from a women's perspective. If the men reading this get your panties in a wad, write your own blog. This is my experience. Just sayin.
Now recently I met JR. I liked JR. He is fresh out on the market after 30 years of marriage. He was honest, he had a "few extra pounds." No athletic build or toned for that matter. It is rare you find a man who describes himself that way. He was 5'11. When we spoke on the phone I mentioned that I found it refreshing that he was honest about his body type. "Yep, I'm just me. Put a little weight on over the past few years, but I'm 5'11 and I hope you find me attractive."
We met. Ladies, what did I wear? Flats! You got it. I ain't falling for it! JR is really a nice guy, but he ain't no 5'11. He might be 5'9 if he stands up very erect and I stoop. I was once again disappointed that some thing so basic can be misrepresented. Now in his defense he had told me he had back surgery and his disc are decompressing so he has some back problems. Having to be knowledgeable in medical conditions as part of my employment, I know that this condition and surgery can "shorten" one an inch or more, as time passes and your disc decompress more, so in his mind he probably was 5'11 at one time and just hasn't realized those days are gone.
I've met men who say they are divorced, but are married. It doesn't take long to figure that one out. I've chatted with men who "live" here locally, but are on business in NIGERIA!! That was actually quite entertaining for me. I have a rather quick witted, sarcastic sense of humor to begin with, but to have someone who is highly "educated" but can not write the English language to converse on line, is a dead give away that they have never stood on American ground. That one, Christian Smith, was one of my favorites. While he was feeding me his "canned speech," I was researching the Internet to catch him up in his web of lies. Interestingly, you could tell when their shifts ended and the new Christian Smith clocked in. Quite entertaining, but not for a woman who fell for their ploy and perhaps would wire them the $10,000 dollars they would request of you to help some poor orphan in the hospital. I was smart enough to not fall for their scheme, but so many have.
Years ago, before I met Bill, I met a man who was in his late thirty's. He was an engineer who decided to go back to school and become a teacher. Don't ask. I've still not figured that one out, but he was a "student." You know it already. He was athletic and toned and was 6'0. He was driving up from Bloomington, Indiana to take me to a Purdue basketball game. His Uncle was a sports announcer on a local TV channel and he had scored two seats on the floor. No big deal to me, I've been front row at a Bull's game when Jordon and Pippin were hot. So hot, I could smell their Bengay! That's how close I was, but I was new at this looking for love in all the wrong places. I might have been 41 or 42 at the time. I was debating on what to wear. This of course was before I knew men could not be trusted with a yard stick to measure properly.
He was going to meet me at my house to pick me up at 6 PM and we were going to drive to Lafayette. I had time to go home after work and get ready. I had decided to wear heels. Not stiletto's, just a slight heel with jeans. Well pass me the frosting to ice my cupcake, he was sitting on my front stoop when I drove up from work. Just a little early. As I walked up to the door and he stood up, check, no heels tonight Cindy Marie, looks like we are bare footin' it!
The thoughts that wander through my mind. Some have suggested I write a book. I think I'll blog first
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