I own two cars.
First there's my normal car, a very nice sedan, no longer new, but not far off it. I use this for my normal day to day running about.
Second is what at first glance looks like a shit-box. It's old and dilapidated, faded paint, unpatched dings, dent and scratches. Mechanically, however, it's a different story. It's in A1 condition. This car I use on my camping and fishing trips. I know it's going to get me there and get me back. So what if it collects a few more nicks in the process. She's a good solid car.
On the day that the incident happened I was heading west, intending to do a little fishing. I was nearly out of the city when it started. A light started changing as I approached it. It happened at one of those annoying distances. Do I stop or not? I should make it through on the amber, but...
I figured the 'but' was too big and drew to a halt. The car behind me thought they could make it on the amber and weren't going to stop. Changed their mind when they realised I was stopping, but just a wee bit too late. I felt this clunk as they bounced off my rear bumper.
I said a rude word and got out to inspect the damage. There may have been a new dint on my bumper but it was a bit hard to tell. The other driver had also got out to inspect the damage and I looked her over.
She was quite a cute little thing. It was hot day and she was dressed accordingly, wearing a loose sort of dress that was just long enough to cover panties and bra. It would be interesting to see her bend over.
She glared at the fresh dint in her bumper bar (not the only one there) and then turned to me apologising. I just waved her apologies aside.
"Forget it," I told her. "No real damage. Just leave it go."
With that we both returned to our own cars. The light went green, I was about to go but had to wait while a little old lady finished toddling across the road and there was a clunk as that idiot girl behind me hit me again.
Apparently she'd started driving on the assumption that I'd just power right over the little old lady. When I didn't, I got nudged again.
Another check showed another dent (one more each). The woman was rather red faced. I suspected equal parts bad temper and embarrassment. She started with the apologies again, but I wasn't in the mood to listen and cut her off.
"Forget it," I snapped. "Just forget it. You can show you're sorry by just sitting there for a minute and letting me get a good head start."
I jumped in and drove, catching the last of the green. She sat there and watched then found she was facing an amber, so just kept sitting. I headed on out.
That evening I booked into a motel for the night. I'd just settled back on the bed to watch TV when there was this crunching noise of metal on metal. As my car was out there I naturally stuck my head out the door to check what was going on.
I went from idle contentment to pissed off indignation with a single glance. There were half a dozen motels in the area. Quite nice ones. There were a good dozen parking spots available at this one. Most of them not next to my car.
So why had that fool woman chosen my motel, and why had she decided to park right next to me and, for god's sake, why did she have to scrape down the side of my car while parking? There was room for a semi-trailer and a school bus. How could she possibly have hit me?
Miss Smashem had finally managed to park and had come over to see the damage. She blushed when she saw me, and so she should have. I stepped back into the motel unit, sat on the bed and waited.
After a few moments the woman stuck her head around the door, and then hastily stepped in when I growled.
"If you would be so kind as to give me your name and insurance details I would appreciate it," I said quietly. "And let me see your licence while you're at it."
"I'm Michelle," she said nervously. "Michelle Thatcher. Um, I don't have any insurance right now, but I'll arrange to pay the damages, honest."
No insurance. That figures. No insurance company would want her as a client.
"If I can have your licence details, please?" I asked. "Just so that I can verify you're who you say you are. You do have a licence, don't you?"
"Of course I have a licence," Michelle snapped indignantly. "It's just that I don't have it on me right now?"
"Why not?" I was trying to be polite, really I was, but it was a bit of a strain.
Michelle was twisting her hands together and looking guilty.
"I sort of lost it," she muttered.
"Lost it," I repeated. "Do you mean lost it, as in you dropped it and can't find it, or lost it, as in you drove your car into the side of a police car and they took your licence off you?"
"It was confiscated," Michelle admitted.
"Really," I said. "Why am I not surprised? What did you do to actually lose it?"
