Smash!!!

We’re finishing lunch, discussing life plans and enjoying the afternoon when a white pick-up catches my eye through the window. We watch from our booth as he backs up. The angle is wrong.
“what is he doing?” my friend asks.
“He’s going to hit my car.” I reply.

SMASH!!

My car lurches forward, rocking back in the stall.
“He just hit my car”. I jump out of my seat as he puts the truck in drive again and starts to drive forward. I sprint around the building as he’s rolling forward, ready to flee. His driver’s side window is open. I glare at him
“You hit my car! Where are you going?” I demand. He looks confused and irritated. His hair is white and the sun hasn’t been kind to his skin over the years. I notice there is dirt under his fingernails as I stare at him in disbelief.
“Did I?” he responds defensively.
“Um… Yes! We all saw you back into my little red car there. Are you going to deal with it or do I have to call the cops?”
“Fuck you!” He spits and hits the gas. I memorize his license plate as I watch him speed off down the road. I’m confused. Did that really happen? Who does that? He hit my car! AND he drove away! I slowly wander back into the restaurant baffled by the exchange. Did he really just hit and run my car? Did that dirty old guy just swear at me and drive away?

Inside I relay the story to my friends and dial 911. “I’d like to report a hit and run please…” The information is collected and reports are filed with both the police and insurance. I’m pretty sure he’s in trouble now. I’m pretty sure he’s a jerk too. He hit my car! I guess I get to add visits to my insurance claim office to my ‘to do’ list for the week.

Seriously, WHO DOES THAT??