Is it Wrong to Hope He’ll Rot in Hell? Because This Life Sure Isn’t Fair.
First, let me start by saying that yesterday was a completely lovely day. I even got a nap. And I had wanted to write a positive blog post today to balance out my last one. Obviously, that’s not happening.
In an effort to make today another lovely day (like yesterday), I thought it would be fun to take the kids to our local children’s museum. After all, it was raining outside. Plus, the museum has a new exhibit about dragons which I figured the boys would really enjoy. So, we got ready, loaded up and hit the road.
A couple of miles from the museum, I stopped behind a pickup truck at a stop sign. Let me rephrase: I stopped SEVERAL FEET behind a pickup truck at a stop sign and SAT THERE, MOTIONLESS for a few second. Then, I watched his reverse lights come on. And I laid on my horn as he proceeded to back into me.
He pulled back up and, for a minute there, I thought he was going to take off. He finally got out and, at first, tried to say that it looked like my car wasn’t damaged. Yeah. Except for those dents in my bumper and that spot where the grill is cracked in half.
We pulled off of the road into an abandoned parking lot and I proceeded to call and report the accident. That was the point at which he started begging me to Please, Please, Please just exchange insurance information with him because he doesn’t have a good driving record and he’s going to lose his license over this.
Um, no. And dude, if you are that big of a menace on the road, you shouldn’t be allowed to drive.
After I called the police, he told me that if I was going to go and make things difficult by reporting the accident, he just wouldn’t give me his insurance information. Yeah, nice, huh? Of course, it turns out that this probably had more to do with the fact that he didn’t have it on him. (Did he think I would just trust him when he broke out with some random policy number without me being able to verify that he wasn’t just pulling it out of a bodily orifice?)
At this point, I was getting concerned because I suspected what he was going to do. And I was right. When the cop showed up, the dude LIED TO HIS FACE. That’s right. Apparently, he was just sitting at that stop sign, tweedle deedle dee, innocent as can be, when I slammed into the back of his truck.
People, livid does not begin to describe how I feel about this situation.
Now, I don’t think the cop believed him. After all, he didn’t ticket me. But he didn’t ticket HIM, either. And that means that I’m on the hook for my insurance deductible. Oh, and to make it even more cheerful? In order to perpetuate his lie and try to save his own a…hem…butt, he has filed an insurance claim trying to make ME pay for the damage to HIS CAR.
I wish that outburst would have been even slightly cathartic.
So, yeah, I’ve got a busted grill (or my car does…my face, and every other part of my body, is fine), a $500 deductible, a lying jerk to deal with, and—to make it even more enjoyable—little boys who have been playing compare and contrast this accident to the last one all day long. Because I really want them to have to think about that, too.
But, there may be hope.
You see, he was apologizing and trying to convince me to not report the accident WHILE I WAS ON THE PHONE WITH 911 DISPATCH. I’ve requested a copy of the call and should have it in a few days. I’m hoping that he’ll be audible on it. At the very least, I know that I will be, and I was having to interrupt my conversation with the dispatcher to reply to what he was saying.
Call me uncharitable, but I’m hoping it will be enough to pin his hide to the wall.