I’ve had this fucking song stuck in my head all day, because I was involved in a hit-and-run accident. No, I did not hit and then run. I was hit into and watched as this cunt in a mint-green Lexus ran off.
Heading into the Hulu offices, I was on Sawtelle Blvd. going northbound approaching the street just before the National Blvd. intersection. It usually takes two red-light cycles to make it through National Blvd., so I waited patiently in the left lane. Now I was in the awkward position of blocking the left-turn lane, but there’s very little I can do about that — it’s not like my position can allow the lane to open up.
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I was listening to the start of the “Jim Rome Show” on the radio where he was talking about the Daytona 500. I was picturing all of the crashes in my mind as he recollected his thoughts. All of a sudden there was a bump, scrape, crack, broken glass. I see the mint-green Lexus trying to pass by to my left as if she was going to die. My jaw dropped as slowly I came to the realization:
This. Motherfucking. Cunt. Just. Hit. My. Car.
She sped up to the left-turn lane at National Blvd., and I thought she would pull a U-turn and park in the KFC parking lot to examine damages. But no. My jaw was still slack as I saw her speed off down National Blvd. as if nothing had happened.
It took a couple of seconds, but I realized that I should probably pull in an check for damages. Fortunately I’m not vain about my car, so I just got a couple more scratches on the driver side of the car and made an already-existing dent on the left rear bumper just slightly bigger. There might even be an indentation on the driver-side, but it’s hardly noticeable really.
No, I didn’t get the license plate. I didn’t get a description of the driver. There really wasn’t any damage, so I didn’t report a thing.
I don’t consider myself a naive person at all. I have a hatred of humanity in a macro-world perspective that makes it easy to live my life. But in a micro-world sense, I just believe that people should act like they got some sense in them. Some manners.
It’s common courtesy if you hit someone no matter if it’s a slight bump or not, you pull over and discuss.
But no. This fucking Westside Liberal NIMBY cunt whore thinks her shit don’t stink, that everyone should drop their things and serve her every whims.
This sense of entitlement isn’t just limited to this incident. Being back at a workplace, I’m shocked how people think their mothers will clean up after them. From dishes in the sink, containers of weeks-old home-baked snacks molding on common-area tables, it really is sickening.
Day by day, my faith in humanity just keeps eroding. Maybe I will run out in the middle of nowhere and dig a hole.