Oh. It's because I hit a PERSON. He was just strolling down the sidewalk, and I hit him! And knocked him over. Flat on the ground. I looked in my side mirror and saw his friend laughing at him as he was struggling to stand again. I glance over at the diva again and still, she's screaming, horrified. I'm horrified too but I mean he's walking--it's not like I ran him flat over or he flew through the windshield.
(MEANWHILE my roommate Amanda is inside her work and hears the screams, looks out the window and just sees feet poking out the side of my car. It must have been a bad angle. She comes outside)
I ask the Asian high school student if he is ok and he wouldn't accept any help from me. The little horrified missy is still screaming, but also doing one more thing with her free hand that isn't covering her mouth. She's typing my license plate into her white iPhone. I ask her to cut it out--nicely and with a smile of course--but really? I'm 21 and I'm a good person--I'm not just going to hit and run. I tell her I don't know if I should call the police or what but I have it and that she doesn't need to take my license plate. I asked her what she was going to do with and it and I think she said "I don't know" but her voice was muffled by her freshly manicured hands with shellac.
He gets up, and I give him my name and number on a sticky note. The funny thing about this pad of sticky notes is that I haven't used it since I wrote my information down to give to a lady in the last car accident I was in. (These are the only two incidents I promise).
Things turned out fine, the girl went shopping, the boy walked home, and I drove to Chick-Fil-A to calm my fast beating heart.
I ♥ my CR-V
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO:
(MEANWHILE my roommate Amanda is inside her work and hears the screams, looks out the window and just sees feet poking out the side of my car. It must have been a bad angle. She comes outside)
I ask the Asian high school student if he is ok and he wouldn't accept any help from me. The little horrified missy is still screaming, but also doing one more thing with her free hand that isn't covering her mouth. She's typing my license plate into her white iPhone. I ask her to cut it out--nicely and with a smile of course--but really? I'm 21 and I'm a good person--I'm not just going to hit and run. I tell her I don't know if I should call the police or what but I have it and that she doesn't need to take my license plate. I asked her what she was going to do with and it and I think she said "I don't know" but her voice was muffled by her freshly manicured hands with shellac.
He gets up, and I give him my name and number on a sticky note. The funny thing about this pad of sticky notes is that I haven't used it since I wrote my information down to give to a lady in the last car accident I was in. (These are the only two incidents I promise).
Things turned out fine, the girl went shopping, the boy walked home, and I drove to Chick-Fil-A to calm my fast beating heart.
I ♥ my CR-V
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO:
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