…some fifteen minutes ago:

Gregg: “So how are things, did you get your truck out of the shop?”

Alex: “Things are good, yeah, I have the truck back.”
Glances out office window at the truck parked across the street.

Gregg: “So how did it turn out?”

Pause

Alex: “Funny you should ask about the truck, I just watched someone run into it. Do you mind if I call you back in a few minutes?”

As I walked out of my building the driver asked me in broken English if I could please help her re-park her van, for obviously it was in direct contact with the truck in front of it (mine), and sitting precariously at a 45 degree angle, rear-end still sticking into the street. She was flustered, and clearly nervous about getting behind the wheel again on the steep street.

She had no idea the truck was mine.

“Sure, no problem.” I hopped in her van and quickly re-parked, happy to help.

No damage was done to my truck, but it was a bit stunning (or amusing, or both) to watch a woman and child sheepishly climb out of their van after ramming my vehicle, all while taking part in a phone conversation about the same truck.