parking_lot_morality warmthofrelease I'm in my car waiting for traffic to sort itself so I can slide into a spot to park. front_row_seat to the scene unfolding before me. ahead, to the left, handicapped man in a motorized cart and accompanying woman are going through the process of getting into their car ahead, center, a car is trying to straighten out and leave. from my point_of_view his nose is to the right, his rear to the left, the exit straight ahead. he is clearly being mindful of the people behind him, who are slowly but surely entering their vehicle. he is giving them space. much much much more than enough space. he tries a few times to straighten his car out to leave. I don't believe this man has ever heard expressions like turning_radius or depth_perception or work_smarter_not_harder. if he has heard of them then clearly he hasn't taken them to heart. I suspect he might have received his driver's_license for spelling his name correctly. but mans is fucking it up. through a combination of poor spatial awareness, poor driving mechanics, impatience, and an implied stupidity, he hits the car in front of him (stage right, to me) as he's turning. from here he simply decides to churn and plow his way through the obstacle of this other vehicle's front bumper, and promptly drives towards the exit and away. this store is in the hood. relatively speaking. it's a little on the ghetto side. people kind of have each other's back when it comes to bending the rules and getting away with it. people take a don't see shit don't know shit attitude. I grew up around that, a little. I aim to assimilate, somewhat. There is a no snitching policy that's been instilled in me since my adolescence. it's part of my moral code. it's very sincerely one of the few things I believe in. "I won't be the one who stops you from getting away with it." or maybe just "not my business." maybe if it was as simple as a hit_and_run I would let it go. curse his idiocy under my breath and go about my day. but you know what? fuck this guy. I'm snitching on this guy. you know why? because he's a terrible goddamn driver. like holy shit you have some bad karma coming to you. I HOPE your insurance rates go up. I HOPE some ten cent judge orders you to pay a fine or offers you to take a driving class, and I hope you take him up on the offer of that class to reduce your fine and I hope you have to sit and be educated on how to drive in that class WITH YOUR EYES FUCKING OPEN. I don't WANT you driving in my neighborhood. You don't deserve to be looked out for. I pull into the nearest available parking spot. I...don't have anything to write with. I whip out my phone and type out the license plate number which I've been repeating in my head for 30 seconds, then the make and model. I walk inside the store to see a woman with a distinctly uninterested expression, sitting at a table in front of some petition or some shit that she's peddling. I ask for something to write with. She unenthusiastically passes me about the most pathetic little black dry erase marker I've ever seen. really? it'll have to do. I immediately set a piece of scrap paper torn from some random mail sitting in my passenger seat onto her table and begin to scribble: red chevy malibu (plate state and number) this is who hit your car, if you care the damage to this person's car was purely cosmetic. I don't even think it caused a dent, much less significant damage. they just traded a lot of paint. but his apple red certainly didn't mesh well with the pearly silver of this person's lincoln. not to mention the scratches. as i walk back out of the store with note in hand, I see the driver of this vehicle is already in the driver's seat. seat belt on. engine on. ready to go. she's a 50-something white woman. possibly fake skin, probably fake tan, extremely fake hair. sunglasses on. traveling alone. I start waving to get her attention. she shakes her head no. I'm insistent, I start waving the piece of paper, I point and audibly say "your car!" she rolls down her window. I say "this is the person who hit you" showing her the paper. "oh!" she says. "I'm sorry, I'm very leery of strangers." I'm rolling my eyes on the inside. but it is an apology. "I understand" I say. "I don't know if you even wanna follow up about it. But if you do, this is who did it" handing her the paper. "oh, ok thank you. Let me see what the damage is," exiting the vehicle. I guess she just loaded her bags into the trunk, got into her vehicle, and meant to leave. Shopping alone. Clearly a bit timid. Didn't even think to look at her front bumper, and why would she? "oh, my god!" she said. "Yeah," I said as I was walking away, not exactly wanting to file a witness report with this person. "like I said, if you want to do anything about it, that's the guy who hit you." "Ok, thank you!" re-entering her vehicle, probably just as content to exit the interaction as I was. I returned to my car to grab some re-usable bags in an attempt to avoid using disposable plastic bags provided by the store. very unamerican of me to be so considerate, I know. turns out I didn't have any in the car. the pile which I'd been meaning to reload was "cleaned" by my automaton roommate. the type of hyper neurotic person who sees something that doesn't fit into their logical or aesthetic framework and immediately moves to correct it. there is no consideration that this thing might have been done intentionally. the android does what its programmed to do, and moves to correct it. I can't leave a dirty dish in the sink for 15 minutes before it's been cleaned. the bags which I intended to put back in my vehicle, for I never always know exactly when I'll be stopping by the store and like to have them ready in my car at a moment's notice, were in fact "put away." out of my sight and out of my mind. what wasn't broke got fixed. so as I kind of puttered into the store, mumbling under my breath with vague irritation, thinking about people who can't drive and people who can't trust and people who can't leave things alone and people who can't retain things easily if at all, there was one thought which struck my mind and lingered both audibly and silently for the rest of the day. inner_conflict 240202 what's it to you? who go blather from