December 21, 2009

• A Wonderful Little Place

  “Mr. Johnson, won’t you sign?” the agent said in an energetic voice.
  “Um, I’m sorry, but what, uh . . . what exactly does this policy do?” Mr. Johnson, a small pudgy man, slowly wondered aloud.
  “Why it’s insurance!” the agent beamed. 
  “But I already have insurance,” Mr. Johnson said with a confused look.
  “Well yes, but you keep your insurance policy in your house, correct?”
  “That’s right,” Mr. Johnson followed.
  “And what if your house burns down?  Then you have insurance for the fire . . . but the fire destroyed your insurance!” 
  Mr. Johnson considered this tragic conundrum for some time before responding.  “I think the insurance company has a copy of it, too,” he timidly speculated, adding another “I think” a moment later. 
  “Ah, but then what if your insurance company burns down?” the agent reasoned forcefully.
  “Hmmm . . .” Mr. Johnson thought with his chin buried in his chest, “That’s a good point.”
  “So in essence what our policy does is form one big safety net so that you and your family are protected in every possible way.”
  Mr. Johnson looked ambivalently at the piece of paper on the desk before him.  Biting his lip, he glanced back and forth between the shiny pen and the signature line.
  “Mr. Johnson, do you really want your entire future to be hanging on the freak chance that both your house and your insurance company won’t burn down at the exact same time?”
  “I-I, uh—,” Mr. Johnson gulped noticeably, “—I suppose not.” 
  “Well then do sign,” the agent said in a slender voice.
  “But where will you keep this policy?” Mr. Johnson wondered.
  “Oh Mr. Johnson,” the agent sighed, pinching in-between his eyes, “Look, in essence we’re robbing you, but that doesn’t really matter.  Just think of all the convincing rhetoric that I have used on you today.  Given that you are a human, that should be enough for you to give us your money.  After all, humans live in a wonderful little place between the psycho and the logical: namely, the psychological.”
  “Some people are logical.” 
  “Yes, but those people are psycho.”
  “Hmm. Hmm,” Mr. Johnson nodded in agreement with the agent’s great points. 
  The agent leaned over where Mr. Johnson sat nervously rubbing his hands together.
  “Think of your children,” he added poignantly. 
  Mr. Johnson started biting his nails.
  “Do you want your house to burn down?” the agent asked forcefully.
  “Yeah, ok,” Mr. Johnson blubbered frenetically, “You’re right, you’re right.  That’s a really good point.” 
  He reached quickly for the pen, knocking it about at first, but finally gripping it.  “Right here,” the agent pointed.  “That’s my man, knew you’d do the right thing!”
  Mr. Johnson then heaved a sigh of relief, and smiled in congratulations to himself as the agent quickly snatched up the policy from the table.

  • 2:57 am
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