Wednesday afternoon, the kind of quiet where nothing’s happening and you start thinking maybe nothing is going to happen, I get an email: Drop everything. Stop. Book travel immediately to Madison, Wisconsin. Stop. Now we’re talking. I’ve been with this company a year now. I’ve been deployed plenty—but always for regular business. One collision car at a time. Clean, controlled, predictable. This? This was different. This was my first hail deployment. Trouble starts immediately. Flight? Got it. Hotel? No problem. Rental car? Nothing. No Enterprise. No National. No anything. Now I’m thinking, alright, small airport, maybe slim pickings. But this felt off. So I call the travel department, and after some digging, they hit me with it: “You’re going to have to use Hertz.” And I’m like… alright, I guess we’re doing this. The flight itself is routine, but the routing makes no sense. Greensboro to Charlotte to Madison. Now technically, I could’ve just flown out of Charlotte and skipped the nonse...