It seemed ordinary enough. After lunch I went to a local fabric store that's having a closing sale. I needed some cloth for background when we shoot product pictures and some other stuff. And I love a sale.
I found some nice bargains, so I was at the cutting table, chit-chatting with the clerk while he measured and cut my choices. And then I heard my name over the PA "Please come to the front of the store."
So I went up, curious and curiouser! There was a uniformed Police Officer waiting for me. I get close to him and he looks at me somberly, puts his hand on my shoulder and says "I'm afraid I have some really bad news for you."
At this point, my mind is rapidly sorting through all the possibilities, and none of them are what he said next: "Your car has been hit in the parking lot."
And my reaction is "Thank goodness!"
So we go out to take a look. The person who hit me is standing there and she's really, really, really sorry. I know this because she keeps telling me so. My left rear fender is hanging off.
I can't decide whether the police officer is an idiot or a genius. An idiot for scaring me to death. Or a genius for knowing that reality was so much better than the horrors my imagination conjured up I'd be pretty happy about my car getting hit.
Which I'm not. Happy that is. But it really could have been so much worse...
Posts
