Wednesday, July 8, 2015

My Poor Car

My car is small like me.  Also like me is its ability to take a punch.  Okay, I don't know if I could take a punch, so this punch is metaphorical.  It's a strong little bugger.  I know this because yesterday when I came out of teaching my dynamic yoga class, all relaxed and joyful, I walked down the street where my car was parked and saw from a distance what looked like paint scraped across the front fender.

Yep, someone had sideswiped my car pretty hard.  I took pictures immediately of my car and then looked around all kinds of helplessly, wondering what I could do.  I mean, it was parked.  There was no note.

My car is bleeding.
Then I realized that the car parked in front of mine was red.  And the paint on my car was red.  Walking around to the passenger side of this red car, I saw my white paint all across the rear door and fender. 
Persons in this picture are taller than they appear.

Nice face
This driver clearly did not know they sideswiped my car because when you do such a thing and you don't leave a note, you drive away as to not be caught.  This person did not drive away.  Instead, they crammed the red car into a space in which it did not fit behind another car and in front of a driveway.  I was on the other side of the driveway with about three feet of wiggle room in front of me.  This person, clearly, should not be driving.  Or parking.

I called Eddie because that's what you do.  He told me to call 911.  I was like, It's not an emergency.  He was like, Call anyway and apologize that it's not an emergency.  I called 411 instead and they connected me to the local precinct directly.

As I started to explain the situation, the man on the other end of the line stopped me and asked, Do you think this is the police?  I responded, Yes because 411 connected me to you.  He said, I'm not the police and I've been getting these calls.  I said, Apologies to you and you should get in contact with 411.

So I called 911.  They took my info and soon enough, a squad car pulled up. I explained to the police officer what happened and then asked hopefully, Can you do anything?

He said that it was difficult to file a report when both cars were parked but he did some police investigative magic to see if the car belonged to anyone who lived on the street.  No luck.  He took my info, though, and filled out some paperwork.  He told me he used to be in insurance and explained what would probably happen. 

He took another look at how the car was parked and said, I'm also issuing a ticket for blocking a driveway.  The car's rear bumper was hanging over the driveway.  See? The space was totally too small.  He offered, It was probably someone in a rush for the train.

I responded, But this is two hour parking!  If you come back, you can issue a parking ticket, too. 

I was joking.  Not really.  I was steamed.

Then he took a moment and said, You're lucky she didn't drive away (he'd ascertained the name of the owner).

I said, All she had to do was leave a note.  But I guess you can't leave a note when you don't know you hit a car.

He handed me my stuff and said the report would read that her car clearly hit mine and he could attest to it.  I thanked him and drove away.  He backed up his car to where I had been parked and began to write her ticket.


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