A Drama in Nine Acts…
A story that drove me up the wall a few years ago.
I honestly don’t know whether this insurer simply has it too good — or whether the right hand genuinely has no idea what the left hand is doing. Either way, what I experienced as a customer had absolutely nothing to do with what you’re sold in glossy ads, “top-rated” insurance tests, and the trade press. And that’s me putting it politely.
To put everything that happened — and the thoughts it triggered… or rather my disbelief and my occasional rage — down on paper, about 90% of the words would have to be insults.
My frustration was almost as big as Germany’s collective joy over the fourth star on the World Cup shirt. Still, I’ll hold back and try to stay factual.
Now that I’ve survived the foreword without swearing (miracles do happen), I’m going straight to the hard facts.
Act 1 – This is about car insurance. Classic-car insurance. Nothing unusual these days… you’d think!
I’d been with Zurich Insurance for over 10 years. Ten years of harmony, openness and trust. Maybe only because there were no claims or incidents? I won’t speculate. It was how it should be.
Until a small incident almost exactly a year ago. Looking back, alarm bells should have gone off back then, but you don’t immediately assume the worst… you believe in the good in people… and as a loyal customer you even start blaming yourself, if you have to.
Act 2 – September 2013: I take part in a classic-car rally abroad — my debut at the “Poland Historic Rally”.
Everything would’ve been great and completely hassle-free if I, absolute genius that I am, hadn’t left my “Green Card” at home — the international proof of motor insurance. Well… not completely forgotten: I brought one along. Only problem: it had expired three weeks earlier.
“This won’t be a big deal,” were my first naïve thoughts. After all, the car was properly insured. All I needed was a short written confirmation. One sentence. That’s it, so I grabbed the phone.
And what do I get? “The number you have dialled is not available.” No worries, must’ve dialled wrong, written it down incorrectly — it’s 2013, we have the internet. No problem.
A quick Google search and the mystery is solved: my insurance broker no longer exists. No broker, no contact person, no confirmation — no rally!
Alright then… there are plenty of others. But I go straight to head office. Better safe than sorry. After the famous hold music, the lady on the other end of the line… in a slightly irritated voice… tells me:
“No! We don’t do that!” … blah, blah, blah … “data protection”… blah, blah, blah … “anyone could ask for that.”
HELLO?????? Anyone could ask for confirmation for my vehicle?? People. I’m not asking for anything confidential. No name, no date of birth, no bank details — just one sentence on a piece of paper:
“Vehicle with registration XYZ is insured with us.”
Nothing more, nothing less.
No matter where I called, I got the same customer-friendly answer:
“Nahhh, can’t do that.”
Alternative: “Nahhh, not allowed.”
Brilliant. 1000 km away from home. A 10-hour drive literally for nothing — and of course I can kiss the entry fee goodbye, too. If needed, I could probably rub it into my hair.
Some people would say: “Just call home and have your policy faxed or emailed.” Sure. Would’ve been easy — if my wife had the key to my office. Back then there was only one, and where was it? Exactly, with me. An absolute donkey.
Since there weren’t many alternatives, I convinced my wife to “break into” my office. I won’t write down what I had to listen to afterwards — the men will understand. ;)
Two hours later I had a fax with the policy. My wife is the best!!!!!! I’m writing that voluntarily… especially when you consider that she then spent another three hours making sure everything was properly locked up again.
Summary: With combined forces (Customer Service — HA, HA, HA — my wife and yours truly) it worked out in the end!
Act 3 – By the end of the year, a few more classics had joined the fleet…
… and I had the glorious idea of getting a German “07 plate” (for non-insiders: a red rotating/collector plate for classic cars).
By then I’d also received a letter from the insurer. It contained the name of the broker I’d been assigned to as a customer — supposedly responsible for customer service.
Naively, I call him. I can’t reach him personally, but his wife says she’ll “pass it on” and he’ll call me the next day… that was the information.
Even her comments make me uneasy: “He’s very busy.” “Classic-car policies are a lot of work.” “You live far away.” (About 100 km… in the age of the internet… really?)
As you can imagine… no call back the next day. Not on day two either. On day three I call again, and I get lucky: the king broker is on the line. Only what he says leaves me speechless.
As we say in German: mouth opens, nonsense comes out. Fits perfectly.
“A lot of work.” “Small profit margins.” “Little time.” “Big distance.”
In short: he doesn’t want me as a customer and suggests that I should look for a broker in my area. The cheek of it!
It’s not like I hadn’t already tried. When I once needed a cover note for a second or third classic, I contacted a Zurich representative near me.
His comments went like this:
“You lot just want cheap insurance.”
“Too much work, no profit.”
“And I don’t know you personally, so I won’t insure the car.”
Fine then. Kind regards to Tambach near Coburg. There are other brokers and other insurers. With them you don’t have to hand in an application folder or introduce yourself in person, hopefully. ;)
But because I’m an idiot, I stay a loyal Zurich customer. For now.
Act 4 – To finally bring order into my “fleet”…
… I call every — truly every — Zurich representative in my region.
E V E R Y O N E!
Not once. Several times. Several times a day, because I’m getting “slightly” irritated.
Still: I reach no one. Not a single person. Sometimes I leave messages on the answering machine. I could’ve saved myself the trouble — the response rate is embarrassing. Almost zero.
Out of about ten agencies, only one calls back. No problem — I get the cover note for the “red classic plate” I wanted. As it later turns out, that too would come with an unexpected sequel.
Small suggestion to Zurich’s board: try calling your own representatives. Best from a phone number nobody recognises. Just to experience the quality and “customer friendliness” first-hand.
Act 5 – A few weeks pass…
… and my mailbox delivers another letter from Zurich. Polite note: I’ve been assigned to a different agency.
Perfect timing, I think. I need insurance for another “daily classic”. This time it’s completely uncomplicated. One quick call and I have everything I need for registration.
Act 6 – More post from Zurich.
I’m asked to submit the insurance application for the 07 plates “as soon as possible”. Problem: I don’t have it, not because I lost it. No. Because I simply never received it from the insurance guy.
So I try to contact the representative who issued the cover note. Same as before: I reach nobody. After two days of failure, I give up.
“Surely someone will have noticed I’ve been terrorising the phone lines for days.”
“Sooner or later someone will contact me.”
Completely wrong.
Head office is faster. Next letter: no longer a request, now a demand. Submit all documents within… I don’t even know… maybe two weeks.
Still impossible. I still don’t have them.
I call my “personal” customer adviser. He tells me: “Sorry, our hands are tied. We didn’t issue the cover note.”
Alright. Then please at least arrange a refund for the vehicles I’d recently taken off the road.
“No, we can’t do that either.”
“Best write a short note to head office.”
So I email head office, asking them to settle the cancelled vehicles and offset the credit against my current policies (until I am graciously granted an actual insurance contract).
Four weeks: nothing. “Lovely! Finally peace.” Except it was just the calm before the storm.
Almost at the same time I receive letters from both Zurich and the vehicle registration office.
Zurich writes: the vehicles have been settled and the money will be transferred to your account. The registration office writes: your vehicles have no insurance cover!
I must pay 48 € and present a new cover note within three days.
The letter arrives Friday at midday. I was fuming. No — I was absolutely livid. I genuinely did not see that coming.
I call head office immediately. After I explain the case, what do I hear?
“Unfortunately that’s an issue between you and the insurance representative. We can’t do anything.”
It’s a bad joke. Nobody can do anything. Nobody knows anything. Nobody is responsible. Nobody is accountable.
Are you all serious? Or is it just me? Probably me — I chose this insurer.
“But I can give you a number in Nuremberg. They’re responsible for you.”
Fine. I call Nuremberg, explain the problem — and immediately get this answer:
“You know what… best call head office.”
Should I laugh, cry, or bite the handset? I’d rather reach through the phone and grab someone by the collar — purely as a concept, obviously.
I keep it together and explain that I got this number from head office.
“Alright… I’ll take care of it. It’s Friday afternoon… might be complicated… but someone will contact you by Monday at the latest.”
I’m shocked. The first time anyone from this “asylum” actually wants to take care of me — the customer.
And unbelievably: Monday, the call comes. It’s the representative who issued the cover note. He tells me not to worry. It will be sorted. He calls the registration office first and says he’ll come by on Tuesday.
Tuesday becomes Wednesday. Wednesday becomes Thursday. And then — “already” — he shows up.
“It all went wrong. It shouldn’t happen like this. I’ll sort it.”
Small excerpt from our one-to-one chat:
“Even the 48 € is no problem. I’ll take care of it, done.”
I’m relieved. Finally, I have someone. Someone who handles things.
Act 7 – Two weeks pass.
It’s quiet on the insurance front. Too quiet for my taste.
Because I’m a burned child (once bitten, twice shy), I email my newly found customer adviser with two simple questions:
- Is everything sorted? I still don’t have a policy document.
- Can I use the plates?
Answer: 0
Act 8 – I’m starting to hate my instincts.
Nothing is sorted. While I’m at work, the police show up at my house!
Enforcement measure… the plates are meant to be de-registered… I’m officially done.
Only thanks to my wife’s persuasive skills — and the fact that she doesn’t have the garage key — I get a two-day grace period.
And I’m right back at full meltdown. If I only hear or read “Zurich”, I’m like a space shuttle: from calm to blow-a-gasket in two seconds.
No choice… stay calm…
I compress my thoughts into an SMS and send it to my customer adviser. Clear ultimatum:
“Either something finally happens, or I’ll contact the press and Zurich’s board.”
Within one minute: an apology and a promise that everything will improve.
Do I believe it? … Not anymore.
Act 9 – I can’t keep this to myself.
Because the last SMS did have an effect, I actually wanted to keep this story to myself. But I can’t. Not anymore.
Today I went to the registration office as a normal citizen and came back — once again — as a “space shuttle”.
What happened?
To register a new vehicle for my wife, I first had to pay the 48 € — plus 77 € for the “police operation”.
On the way home I called my insurance guy.
“I can’t do anything about the 48 €… I wasn’t responsible…”
“And the 77 €… since when do you have to pay for a police operation? They didn’t even de-register anything.”
What came next? A bang. A dull, loud bang. That was the moment the lid finally blew off.
CONCLUSION
If anyone is considering switching to Zurich, they can’t say later they weren’t warned. Here it is in black and white — how it can go.
If you’re looking for action or want to stress-test your nerves, I can warmly recommend Zurich.
And for anyone who’s into a bit of S&M… well. “Customer pain” seems to be one of their stronger disciplines.
A short afterword to close
Because life is unpredictable: a few years later, at an external training course, I met someone who earns his bread and butter at exactly that insurance company. Later that evening we got talking and I started to tell him this story. Or rather: I wanted to — but I didn’t have to.
After not even 30 seconds he interrupted me and burst out laughing. Turns out he knew my story very well. And not just him. My story had become a company-wide email — the kind that “brightened people’s day” — and the author was unknown. Until now.
Where did the staff get that story? Simple: back then, in my frustration, I emailed it to several Zurich email addresses. Not just in Germany. :-)
And after that encounter, I even got my 48 € + 77 € reimbursed.
And when I think back on all of it today, I can still hear Ölvis in my head:
“Zurich? Sure… Customers don’t get taken care of there. Customers get cited.”
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