I had my first taste of freedom today after a week of the kids being off of school for Thanksgiving break.  To say that the kids function much better when they have a strict schedule is an understatement.

I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do.  I knew I wanted to go for a run since that hasn’t been a priority of mine lately, but beyond that, I didn’t know if I should sit at home and catch up on some DVR’d shows, read my book or run errands.  I decided that I needed to run errands.  I had a check that needed to be deposited and a couple of things that needed to be returned at different stores.

I had finished my returns and had just pulled into the parking lot of my bank.  There was an older woman walking through the middle of the parking lot so I was waiting for her to pick a side before pulling into a spot.  I watched a man in his late 70’s or early 80’s get in his car and put it in reverse.  I took a quick glance at the woman walking and she had almost made it to the curb and she was thankfully out of the way of any traffic.  I couldn’t help but think of the South Park episode, Grey Dawn.  If you don’t know it, look it up.

The shiny, silver Infiniti parked next to the man wasn’t quite so lucky.  He started backing up and I was cringing because I knew he was going to hit the back panel of the neighboring car.  Sure enough, the entire right side of his car rubbed up against the back left panel of the Infiniti, leaving a nice black scratch.  He stopped, pulled back in his spot and because I like to think the best of people, I assumed he was going to get out and check out the damage.  Nah…he tried to reposition his car and ended up pulling out and hitting the car again.

At this point, I had gotten out of my car and was walking towards the ATM while watching some inter-vehicular dry humping.  I was also searching in my purse for a pen because it was pretty clear that the guy driving wasn’t going to stop, much less leave a note.  I wrote down his license plate and I’m almost 100% certain that he saw me standing there writing it down, but he still chose not to stop.

Once I had finished my banking business, I returned to my car and began scripting my tattle-tale note to the silver Infiniti driver.  I already was starting to feel kind of bad.  What if my note somehow results in this man losing his license?  And then I thought, Well, if that’s the case, he may have a lot of prior accidents and shouldn’t be driving.  And then I started to feel like an ageist.  But then I argued that he did hit another car…twice.  And then I thought, It’s just a car!  Who cares?  But then I thought of how I would react if I came out of somewhere to find a big scratch on my car.  Through all of my inner turmoil, I had written the following note:

I saw someone hit your car this morning.  He was backing out and rubbed against your back panel.  He was driving a red Toyota Camry (I think) I’m not 100% sure on the make and model, but his license plate is 6***236.  If you have any questions, you can email me at…

After placing my note under the windshield wiper of the car, I noticed the United States Naval Academy license plate holder on the Infiniti.  Hmmm, I wonder if this guy hit an Officer’s car!?  I felt a little better about tattling.  But what if the guy in the red Camry was an Officer?  I had no idea what the hell was going on in my head.

I got home around 2:45 after picking Kamryn up from school.  I checked my email and sure enough, I had an email from Susan. :

Dear Amy:

Thanks so much for taking the time to leave a note on my car. May I call you to ask a couple of questions?

My cell phone number is 619-xxx-xxxx.

Thanks again. That was very thoughtful of you.

Kind regards,

Susan

I called Susan and left her a message along with my number.  Normally, I wouldn’t give my number to anyone I didn’t know, but with the power of the internet, I found out all kinds of things on Susan before giving her my number and she seems like a pretty trustworthy gal (and a previous dancer).  She never attended the Naval Academy, though.

Anyway, Susan called back about 20 minutes later and was extremely grateful for my note.  She was so grateful, she said she wanted to give me something for my trouble.  I refused, but I’m a little curious as to what she would have given me.  A cup of coffee?  A check?  A spa day?  I wonder what a note about a car getting hit goes for these days?

Susan’s last words to me were, “Thanks again, Amy.  You did a good deed.”
I’m pretty sure red Toyota Camry guy doesn’t think so.