Sunday, February 8, 2015

The Veracity of Old Ladies.....

Generally speaking I think my parents' generation is more honest and reliable than my kids' generation.  It's a sweeping generalization, I know, but if you picture a hundred twenty-somethings say, backing unwitnessed into someone's car, what percentage would you guess would leave a note with appropriate information, as opposed to a group of people in their seventies?   Food for thought.  For the record, the one time I was the perpetrator of such an event, I was 21, and I left a note. 

Why am I philosophizing on this subject?

My parking lot at work is crowded.  Add a few tons of ploughed snow and there aren't enough parking spaces for the patients, let alone the staff, so I make it my habit to park on the street.  Usually I park some distance away for the exercise, but with temperatures at zero and my lungs twitchy when I drink cold water, close seemed practical on Friday morning, which put me on a fairly narrow street.  As I was walking away from my car I heard a 'crrruuuuunnnnnccchhh' that almost sounded like someone backing into a snow bank.  I turned around to see an elderly lady applying her rear bumper to mine as she backed out of her driveway.

My voice hasn't been great and I sound entirely like Alvin the Chipmunk when I yell but I ran toward her waving my arms and squeaking as loud as I could, "HEY! You HIT MY CAR!"  She had (grand?)kids in the back seat and they got her attention before she could pull away.  She rolled her window down and gave me a what-the-hell-do-you-want look.  I told her she'd hit my car.  She denied it.  I pointed out the damage.  She said, "Well, I didn't hit it THERE!"  Um, interesting, three seconds ago you said you didn't hit it at all, but, okay.  Then:  "I have to take the kids to school."  Despite the fact that I pointed out that she couldn't leave the scene of an accident, she insisted that taking the kids to school was more important, and she drove away, saying, "I live right there (pointing). I'll be back."


I called her plate number in to 911.  About three hours later a young policeman came, looked over the damage, confirmed that I was legally parked, asked if she had returned, noted that she had not left any contact information on the car ("Well, Officer, she did tell me she lives there (pointing) but it was too cold for me to stand outside and wait for her").  He looked up the driveway, spotted her car, and said, "Whelp, I'm gonna go write me some TICKETS."  Sounded just like Donkey in Shrek getting all psyched up about makin' waffles. 

So it looks to me like Beauty is going to get a new rear bumper, since there is a starburst hole in the driver's side corner and the bumper has popped off the driver's side rear quarter panel.   I take her to the car doctor for an estimate on Thursday morning. 

If I hadn't seen it happen she would have pretended it didn't happen.  I'm not sure how long it would have taken, given snowfall and grime, to notice the minor displacement of the bumper, but I'm betting it would have been some time.  And without this accident report proving that I was not at fault I'd have to cough up a $500 deductible to pay for the new bumper.

I hope Jake at State Farm jacks up her rates for her dishonesty.   She gives old ladies everywhere a bad name.


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