About a month ago my boss sent me on a field trip to research products in our category carried by a national drug store chain. Being that I love any excuse to leave the office, I excitedly nodded my enthusiasm to writing down brand, retail/temp. reduction pricing, etc. while standing in the middle of an aisle. Better than listening to my co-worker ask me how to merge cells in Excel or remind her dog had not pooped yet that day. (Jealous?)
Off I bounced, happily to my car and off for an errand. Similar to paying bills, I enjoy weird mindless tasks like buying shampoo and making free right turns.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I realized that each parked car alternated with an empty spot, a bad equation for door dings when parking in between them. Being that I am harped on constantly by the Subaru Doog Ding Patrol, I opted for a much smoother alternative. The row directly across offered wide open space, free of aggressive door slammers, so I backed Lucy in between the lines and joyfully headed into the store.
Ten minutes later I emerged, notes in hand, and approached my car.
“What is that?” I thought. A parking ticket? I apprehensively looked around. I am familiar with the area, and know there are numerous cat-callers, had someone left me a note? Yes, I am in fact narcissistic enough to believe that someone would leave a note on my windshield indicating interest in me. I wear puffy vests with fur hoods, who can say no to that?!
How wrong was I? Well, rather than a phone number and creepy invitation for drinks, I was surprised with a phone number and…insurance information. Wait, what? She hit my car? I frantically circled my property, almost with a defensive crouch, looking for the dent, the gash, the scrap! But..nothing. I quickly rescanned the note..”right front fender.” My eyes darted..scan..scan..scan..and there it was. A small, dime size blemish that protruded out of my bumper.
So, that’s how it goes huh? Park in a ding-free zone and get backed into. All I can say is this driver must have some fantastic karma, because backing into Lucy – pushing her bumped in the bumper beam – is going to cost a whopping $1000.
I would have much rather gotten a sketchy phone number.