Vent: Update

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Home of Mr. Bitch@ss who hit my car

When we went to pick up my car this morning, the guy was outside taking out his trash. Surprise of all surprises, he’s a middle-aged Filipino guy that is no bigger than my dad. When he saw us, he started scampering back into his house. I did not confront him. Why? Because I didn’t want an assault or harassment charge on my record. As the LAPD oh-so-gently reminded me, I cannot approach him or harass him about my car. With no witnesses, I have no proof. Trying to talk to him about it would be taking the law into my own hands and he could call the police on me for harassment. Ain’t that a bitch? Truth be told, I have never been so angry in my life and I would have pummeled the old guy. I may be small, but don’t underestimate a pissed off woman. I dug deep and found some restraint. The vindictive teenager in me wanted to cuss him out and screw the consequences. Thankfully, the adult in me prevailed.

After talking to our insurance, they gave us the same speech as the LAPD. With no witnesses, there is a certain level plausible deniability. The guy can easily say that it wasn’t my car that he hit or that it was an older scuff. Bottom line, we are out of luck. We can either have the insurance cover it and risk our premiums going up {they didn’t say the part about premiums going up. that is just conjecture} or handle it ourselves. Most likely we will be paying out of pocket.

The positive side is that a guy who owns a body shop heard our story and is willing to work with us on getting my car fixed. He already popped out the dent to allow us to open the door. We are spared having to climb in through the window ala Dukes of Hazzard. At least there are some decent people left.

Thanks to all for your ideas and support. Now that I’ve gotten this off of my chest, I promise I’ll go back to my regularly scheduled programming.

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