Gas station, waiting for my tank to fill up.
Old lady pulls up to the pump in front of me, begins to back up. Old lady backs up into bumper, stops. Old lady backs up further into my bumper (crunching sound), stops. Old lady backs up AGAIN, at which point i'm all "HEY HEY STOP". Old lady opens door, dressed in her fancy Talbots best. "Are you okay?" i demand. "Yes." "Are you sure?" Old lady ignores me and looks at her bumper, which is scratched, then mine. I brush off some dirt. "That's not from my car" says the old lady rudely, then turns around and walks away.
Conversation over, i no longer exist.
Not once did she look me in the eye. No "oh my goodness," or "I'm sorry".
i wish i had taken her license plate number because when she pulls out i see her weave in traffic. ugh.
Later i see a giant black truck with chrome covered balls. i commence asking the universe "why, why, why...?