Saturday, April 18, 2009

It's called hit and run, buddy

Jesse and I went to the gun show again this morning. We took separate cars because he had to go to work after. I saw a truck come up the wrong way in an aisle to back into a spot, but in doing so, it broke the back lights and knocked a good chunk of the bumper on the car on the end of the aisle. For whatever reason I saw the whole thing and shouted out, "OH SHIT!" and had a look of shock and the driver saw me. He parked and started to jot a note to put on the car. I stared for a good while upon him doing his note. Then, I walked to meet up with Jesse at the hotel lobby. I looked out upon the parking lot to see if Jesse was anywhere to be found and he wasn't. Neither was the big truck! He left! When we left the gun show, I asked Jesse to see if there was a note on the hit car and there wasn't! That's hit and run, buddy! There's a BIG difference between opening your car and bumping your door on the side of someone's car and taking out 1/4 the back end of their car and not leaving a note. Seriously, I'm so mad I didn't get his info. I feel bad for the person he hit and hope they can catch this guy with the parking lot surveilance or something.

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