When I was young and foolish, I owned a car with t-tops. I wasted a lot of gas in those days, driving through Rocky Mountain National Park and other scenic places. Even when the t-tops were on the car, it was amusing to look up and see blue sky instead of color-coordinated plastic.
One Sunday morning, my girlfriend and I went out to the carport to take the car for a spin, with this being in an apartment complex where residents could rent a carport if they so chose. When I turned the corner to my space, my heart sank as I saw that the t-tops were missing. Someone had stolen them during the night. I glanced at the space for my neighbor who had a Nissan 300ZX, also with t-tops, only to see that his t-tops were missing as well. Then I looked at the space for a Corvette I had often coveted, only to see that it too was missing its t-tops. We walked back to the apartment and I knocked on the door to the guy who owned the 300ZX to give him the bad news. I could tell he did not believe me, but I'll bet he did when he saw his car.
I called the police and filed a report. The officer told me that the apartment complex often had incidents like that. I made a mental note to look for a new place to live. Luckily I also had an old Chrysler, so I was not forced to drive an open vehicle in the rain or snow.
The next day I called my agent. He told me to call an adjustor and get replacement t-tops. I called the adjustor, but he didn't require me to travel to his office. All he needed was the police report, which made sense, given that there was nothing he could investigate. He gave me a telephone number of a business from which to obtain t-tops. This struck me as more than a little strange, as I expected him to tell me to go to the dealer and have new t-tops ordered.
I called the telephone number and talked with a guy who gave me an address which appeared to be in a residential neighborhood. I didn't want to make false assumptions, so I drove to the address in the early evening as we had discussed. As I suspected, it was a residential street. I slowed down as I approached the house, only to see a few large boxes sitting on the driveway. I didn't stop and returned home.
The next day I called the owner of a body shop I had dealt with in the past. I asked him if he could obtain new t-tops for me. He said he could, but his price would be significantly higher than what insurance would reimburse me for. He asked me to explain what I had been told by the adjuster. After I gave him the complete story, he told me not to contact the adjuster again and call a State Farm regional manager he knew.
I called the manager and once again explained my story. He told me to contact the dealer and have new t-tops ordered and charged to State Farm.
After the t-tops came in and I placed them on the car, I called the body shop owner to thank him for his assistance. He confirmed my suspicions that the adjuster might well be a member of a gang which stole car parts to order and then sold them back to the unsuspecting customer, with State Farm's unwitting assistance. He also told me that the adjuster no longer worked for State Farm.
And I obtained insurance from a different company.