My car and other people: A rant.

Every time I go out to my car, I see another dent or another scrape.

It's true that it's an older car, but it's a cute little sports car. It's not invisible. And it's not okay to hit my car and then drive away.
But nonetheless, time after time, my car gets hit.

What's wrong with people!?!

Example one:
All of my friends were sitting out one hot night having a gelato when I saw a man pull in front of my car to (attempt) to parallel park.

"Watch this." I said, pointing down the street.
"What?" Jeff asked.

"That guy's going to hit my car."
Sure enough, he backed right into it. Hard. Spider jumped up to run down there, but I stopped her, "Let's see if he leaves a note."

Of course he didn't. He didn't even pretend too. He inspected HIS rear bumper for damage and then turned to walk away. At that point, both Spider and I jumped up.

"Hey!" I yelled at him.

"What?" He replied.

"You just hit my car."

"No."

"Don't lie about it! My friends and I all just watched you nail it." I indicated my table of irritated looking friends who were staring at him fiercely.

"It's not that bad." He said.

"That's not really the point, is it. You hit my car, looked at your own damned bumper and you weren't even going to have the decency to leave a note, were you?" It wasn't really a question.
He looked nervously at Spider, who had whipped out her camera and was taking pictures of the incident.

"I'd like your insurance information and your licence." I said.

He looked cross and rummaged around in his glove compartment.
"You'll be hearing from ICBC. And next time you hit someone's car, do the right thing and leave a note."

Of course, there was very little damage, but the nonchalance he displayed just sent me through the roof. I never did call ICBC. But I liked to think he worried about it for a long time afterwards. (Yeah. Right.)

Example two:
I was actually sitting in my car when the person next to me opened their car door so hard it actually rocked my car when it hit. I honked my horn only to be rewarded with blank and glazed-over expressions by the lot of them.

I got out of my car, walked around to the front passenger side door to have a look at the inch and a half long gouge in the side of my car from the impact. "You just put this gash in my car." I pointed at the obvious damage.

"Oh."
"Sorry."

They were elderly and enfeebled. So I took pity on them and didn't persue the matter. But it astounded me that they couldn't be bothered to even look at the damage. Nope, they all just stared at me from inside their car.

Might have been the froth forming at the corners of my mouth that concerned them.

Another example?
No problem.

I was walking back towards my car one fine spring day and there, again, the person parked in front of me backed right up into my car. Watched him do it.
I ran up to the car and banged on the passenger side window. The girl passenger rolled down her window and looked fearful.

"Hey!" I yelled at the driver, "You just banged into my car!"

"Oh. Sorry."

"That's it?" I fumed. "Sorry? You weren't even going to leave a note, were you. F*uck. Just get the f*ck out of here." I don't generally curse at strangers. But when they are so obviously disinterested in their effect on me and my property, I tend to get upset.

Where am I going with this?

Well, again, today. I go back to my car and notice a fresh streak of blue paint gracing my left front bumper.

No note.
Of course.

And while I can't say I'm surprised, I sure am pissed off.