"Are you kidding me!" I bark.
"Huh? Did it hit?" he replies while pretending to act dumbfounded.
Strong gusts of wind buffeted my vehicle forcing my turning the steering wheel into the blast. I slowed and turned broadside to the wind that rocked my car like a ship in rough water. Easing into a parking space, I shut off the engine.
Trees violently jerked around as debris skidded across the parking lot. A gap in my door's rubber seal allowed the invasive wind to whistle inside. Wind. Its my least favorite condition offered by Mother Nature as it is tough to escape. But once I ramble into the canyon, it will dissipate and I look forward to the reprieve.
But, added to the recipe of annoyance was a dolt (screw it, I'll say it--a real dumbass) in the car parked beside me.
A sporty looking Audi, white in color, with some hot shit behind the wheel and a lady in the passenger seat. Name brand clothing, custom "vanity" license plates and stickers in the windows telling everyone how badass he is sets the stage. Oh, and big money sunglasses are perched on top of his head.
Definitely not the kind of person that impresses The Moustache.
I go about yanking shoe laces tight and covering skin to avoid frostbite as I expected to step out and challenge the wind for a couple hours in blustery winter weather. The mountain trail was snow and ice-packed two days earlier so I snap on my Icetrekkers (still the best traction devices on the market) and I am nearly ready to start my run.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mr. Important reaching down to open his door. He cracks it open where the wind instantly rips it out of his girlie-man grip and his door bounces off my car. He catches his door on the rebound and closes it. His eyes bulge as I shove my door open.
"Are you kidding me!" I barked. (Okay, I admit, a fiery f-bomb was included.)
"Huh? Did it hit?" he replied, acting dumbfounded.
"Look right there!" I yell through the wind while pointing out where his door damaged my car which was clearly evident since the fresh mark stood out in my grimy car's exterior like a flashing beacon.
Too late. Mr. Important had already put his car in gear and was pulling out. I talked myself down from the anger that flared as I would have regretted following through with my initial thoughts...
Typical in this day and age. Catch someone with their hand in the cookie jar and they will look straight in your eye and claim it isn't their hand.
The door ding isn't a huge deal as it joins several others on my aging car. But, its the principle of the matter!
Did I write down his license plate? Absolutely, but later I tossed it in the trash as I assumed his lady friend was appalled with his extreme cowardice and I hope that was punishment enough.
Come on, folks, doing the right thing should come natural! Even if it amounts to nothing more that saying, "Sorry."