Mar 27, 2021: Aye, Car-umba

Today was a pretty good day.

We got up, Carole went out for plants and stuff, I got the shopping in. She studied. I played. We went to see my mum so she could see me before I go to have that worrisome vaccine injected into my arm tomorrow.

All of these were good.

And then we came home. Parked the car outside the house. Came inside. Went about out day.

And someone just drove into the car. Again, the parked car, at the side of the road. He was, by all accounts, trying to park in the fucking huge space in front of our car – around two car lengths I would have estimated it to be – and somehow didn’t even manage to get past our car before he turned in.

Our lovely new car.

Oh, and then he drove off as soon as he’d done it.

So that was fun.

He was witnessed by a neighbour who, sadly, didn’t get his license plate or anything. And woe became us. Because it was going to have to go through the insurance and with no other party to point the finger at it would be quite a sad time for us.

However… our neighbour – the same one who witnessed the incident – went out. She was going out anyway, when she saw the amazing driving I should point out, and she just happened to pull up behind the offending vehicle at some traffic lights. Where she took a picture of his car.

She then pulled up along side him, jumped out and took more pictures – of the driver, the license, the damage to his car – and challenged him on what he’d done. Which, like a complete and utter spineless bellend, he completely denied. And then wound his windows up and locked his door.

We’ve reported him to the police. I mean, we need to anyway for the insurance thing, but also because if he’s failing that badly at getting into a space to park then he possibly shouldn’t be driving. The fact that our neighbour caught up with him and she left the street a good ten minutes after him would also imply there was quite a high level of very slow driving involved. So he was probably pissed as well. But that’s just entirely allegedly, of course.

And he’s known to our immediate neighbour – he got out of his car post scrape and went to her house but she wasn’t in – and she’s confirmed she knows him. And given us all his details. So we could, if we wanted, drive to his house and shit on his bonnet.

Funnily enough, he drove into the back of the last car we had several years ago as he failed to leave the space he’d parked in with a motorbike he was on. Although we didn’t realise that until long after he’d gone. We just heard a crash and thought it was him toppling his motorbike over, which we helped him to pick up, rather annoyingly.

We’ve only had our nice shiny newest of the new we’ve ever had car for a mere two months. Two months.

And it was parked outside.

Parked.

We wouldn’t even be so pissed off if he’d stopped and apologised, or if we’d have scraped in moving traffic. But when we’re parked and nowhere near it.

Twat.