To the jack@ss who peeled my car open like a sardine can last week:

Are you so incapable of knowing the boundaries of your vehicle that a tight right turn turns into a smash-up derby?

Did you honestly not hear the scream of the bending metal, and the loud crash of the front end of my car hitting the ground?

Didn’t you feel the drag on your rear bumper as it caught the front of my car until you finally snapped everything off just before you drove away?

Did you totally miss your rear tire grinding itself so deep into my signal light that I’d literally have to sand through half a layer of the plastic to remove the black mark? Fortunately, since you completely snapped it off (including the bolt that so annoyingly held it into the chassis of my car), I only had to replace it with a new one.

Are you illiterate, or did you just think stopping to leave a note was too difficult?

Did you think nobody in the parking lot (including the construction workers) would notice you driving away from the scene of the accident? Actually, sadly, nobody did, so I am out $500 plus what it cost me to miss a day of work to have it fixed.

I am pretty sure I know what kind of gas-guzzling truck I am looking for. I have been trolling the parking lot every day. And as soon as I see what I suspect is the vehicle in question, I am going to inspect it for the damage I am sure is visible.

Then I am going to take more time off of work to sit on the hood of your vehicle until you come back to it. The conversation will start out politely, and hopefully will end that way (I’m not a total savage) unless I don’t like your answers, or you have forgotten your chequebook. Either way, the cops will have a field day with you.

Thanks for totally screwing up my weekend, not to mention my car.

This article appears in Sep 18-24, 2008.