Temporary car insurance. Does it suck?

Which Came First, The Chicken or the Egg

I would never buy temporary car insurance from those guys that advertise at 4 o clock am during the Girls Gone Wild long commercials, but it was late and I was drunk, and I needed insurance.

I actually don't care; it's my mom. I still live with her and even though I am much too old to be included as a dependent on her insurance policy, she still exercises a great deal of authority over me. Small price to pay seeing as I haven't done my laundry or ever had to cook for myself in my life. I'll take it!

But anyway she makes me go get insurance for myself before she will let me drive her car. She explains that her insurance would cover the car if I was driving it, maybe, and she would have to get an expensive lawyer to prove that. My injuries would not be covered under any circumstances. I don't know when she had the time to read all this, but I trusted her, because I certainly was not going to read it.

So I check the insurance rates and the only one I can afford is the rate for farm vehicles. We live in the city. But I have never been the type to give up, especially when my beer money is at stake. So I go in and ask the guy what can I do to get my car registered as a farm vehicle.

Basically I had to change some things on my registration and always have some farm related stuff in my car. So I did it.

Well since I still had some beer money, you better believe I spent it on beer. And you should know that when I spend money on beer, nothing good can come of it. This was no different. I thought to myself, what would be funnier than using a live chicken for my farm related material to keep in the car? I would be the MAN among my peer group, who pretty much had the same philosophy on life as me (which is none). A stunt like that might even get me laid for the first time in years, because girls love guys that are daring and do what they want and stuff. Right?

Took a trip out to my uncle's farm and got a live chicken. Rooster, actually. Named him Pedro.

Pedro started going with me everywhere. Parties, the grocery store, on dates, everywhere! My pals loved him. He was the hit at parties, which made me the hit at parties. I actually brought a couple of girls home off that. Smelled so bad that I didn't get anywhere, though. What can I say? My job is construction. I don't have to take any shower that I don't want to.

Whatever. So I'm driving to the grocery store one day to get some milk and eggs (ha ha) with the window down. Pedro has long since taken to sticking his head out of the window like a dog, but this time, I pull up a little too close to the stop sign. Pedro hits his head on the metal and the impact jerks his body out of the car. I am so dumbstruck by this that I forget to stop and this guy plows into me from the side, totaling my car.

I know I'm in big trouble if I don't get that chicken back in the car before the police get here. So I literally throw my license and insurance at the guy, and run around to get Pedro. He is of course, dead, and quite bloody. I put him in the front passenger seat and wait for the cops.

Cut forward 3 months, and my insurance company is trying to not pay, saying that I misappropriated my vehicle.

I showed the judge my pictures of Pedro, all bloody in the car. I told him that yes, I was on farm business at the time and this chicken was my proof. However, after hearing expert testimony from farmers around the area, the judge ruled against me saying that this chicken was "obviously not a part of any agricultural function."

The farmers testified that I had killed the chicken incorrectly if I had wanted to eat it. They said that the blood had permeated the edible parts of the chicken and contaminated it.

What's funny to me is how seriously everybody took the details. Do you mean that if I had bled the chicken out on the ground I could have gotten my car fixed? Noted. Next time I'm just going to ride around with a dozen eggs and claim that I am incubating them.