Today one of the women that works at my job came up to me and asked me if the license plate number she wrote down was mine. Now, anytime someone ever asks you that question, it usually means some fucked up shit happened to your car. So I answered yes and asked why, dreading some horrific answer like it’s on fire or something.
Apparently as she was parking, she scraped the rear bumper of my car with her front bumper. Honestly, I was quite relieved and I pretty much dismissed it there, but she insisted I follow her outside to at least offer to pay for the damages. As we’re walking outside, she’s visibly shaking and almost on the verge of tears and all I could do was tell her that it was all right. So from a distance, I can see the scrape marks on her driver side front bumper which wasn’t very bad at all. Then, she showed me where she hit and it was seriously nothing. I bent down and managed to rub off a lot of the damage and was left with 2 very small scratches on the rear bumper of my car. I told her that it was nothing a small bottle of touch up paint could fix and to not worry in the least bit about everything. She was all ready to get the police involved for a police report so that she could get it fixed. I assured her that everything was ok and that I really did not care in the least about it. I mean it’s a car for heaven’s sake. They can be fixed and replaced very easily, especially with damage that minimal. She seemed pretty shocked I took it so lightly, but I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of a $2.50 and 3.5 second job.
If anything, I just thanked her for coming up to me to let me know what happened. Most people around those parts would have just parked in a different spot and not let anyone know what happened.
In other news, I’m currently watching Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back and let me tell you folks… I would give ANYTHING to have both Eliza Dushku and Shannon Elizabeth in my bed wearing those latex outfits from the movie. Boy am I going to have some very very nice dreams tonight… ~grins~