Wool & Words

I had these great plans for today's blog. I was going to give you an update of my knitting projects, wax philosophical about D.H. Lawrence, and share my ire with Daylight Savings Time. But all of that will have to wait until I'm feeling a bit more focused. For now, I'm in a bit of a rage.

Someone hit my car today and then drove off.

There I was, waiting patiently for the person in front of me to turn so that I could pull up next to the mail drop outside of the Post Office. As I sat there, musing on the weather and wondering how quickly I'd be able to finish the 18 essays that still need to be graded, I noticed a car backing out next to me and headed straight for my passenger side doors. I immediately honked the horn, but I was too late. The car hit mine.

Now, the options were simple for the driver of the car. All she had to do was pull back into the space she was backing out of, get out of her car, and wait for me to find a parking space so that we could chat/check out the damage. Or she could drive off. You can guess which option she took.

But I am a fast thinker and I got her license plate number. After I parked the car, I called the cops to report the incident.

My car is barely damaged; just a smoosh on the paint, a few scratches, and some red paint from her car. And if she had stopped to talk to me, I probably wouldn't have called the police. But she didn't, so I did.

Be careful in parking lots, folks. They can be dangerous places.