Smash and Dash
Ah, bugger. One side of my car's rear lights was cracked last night in the side parking lot of the Dacotah Building on my block. The Muse and I had stopped at Frost for a nightcap after dinner at the Town Talk Diner--pretty good squash risotto and killer carrot soup. We'd stopped at Frost on the possibility of encountering our boy Hulles (who of late has parlayed his talent for lurking into a series of Chasing Windmills appearances).
No Hulles. After an hour, we departed. That's when we found my car with its smashed-in light and mildly loosened bumper. Dammit. After a bit we decided it would be best to get the report for insurance purposes. We called the police. Cool.
About five minutes later. A squad car rolls up to the corner. The officer looks over at us, I nod, he takes off--and goes right down the road to Fern's, where officers often take their dinner break. (Fern's serves large, affordable dinners that are usually pretty good. And they serve until midnight.) Fern's is within easy sight of Frost.
For an hour, I can see two squad cars there. We call the police again. The woman on the phone apologies and says there have been a number of emergencies in the neighborhood.
I hang up. Totally emasculated by the moment, I say, "More like an emergency on spicy meatloaf."
"You poor boy," the Muse says.
Another hour passes, and for half of it I'm watching a lone squad car at Fern's like a hawk. I'm convinced they're all down there on an extended dinner break.
"I know they've got to eat," I say, "but...but...."
What can I say? I'm at their mercy.
Finally, a very nice, wide-eyed officer shows, notes that the damage is probably going to be fixed for no more than the deductible anyway (Hence, "Can't we just let this go?") but after waiting two hours it seemed like a dumb idea not to just collect the official form and have it for a report, especially in the event something was actually wrong with my sweet sweet Altima.
The report was another 15 minutes. No biggie. The car runs as it has for ages. The basic lights (brake, blinker, and reverse) are still in view and functioning--but I've got a couple suspects and will be trolling the streets of Saint Paul in search of them.
Not even the sight of this sunflower takes the edge off my desire for revenge.
-cK
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