[Need_for_speed]

I had just purchased my car and had driven it but twice: once from the dealership to the DMV for plates, and then to my indie for IMS, RMS, clutch etc. After a few weeks, the day finally came when the car was ready for me to bring her home. My wife and I picked her up from the indie and we headed home, trading turns driving, marveling at her beauty and poise. On the spur of the moment, we decided to stop for dinner at a nice restaurant on the way home to celebrate the new addition. I parked her at the furthest reaches of the parking lot, which is to say, at least a half a mile away from ANY OTHER CAR.

We finished dinner, walked out to my car, and immediately noticed a note stuck in the windshield wiper. "Dear Sir, we were just leaving the gym across the parking lot when we saw a young girl in a white Altima pull out of her parking space and sideswipe your sports car. We tried to get her license number but she saw us chasing her and sped away. It was too dark for us to read the plate. Very sorry."

With a scream of rage slowly building in my lungs, I walked around to the other side of my car. There was a thick smear of white paint from the rear of the door to the front of the taillight. The car had been in my possession for less than 3 hours.

Fortunately for me, it looked like a horrible amount of damage, but turned out to be far less traumatic. Altima bumpers are plastic and the paint is soft. Most of the damage buffed out, and what remained was fixed with paintless dent repair. Since then, I have entertained myself with a fantasy that Altima girl's daddy finds out what happened, at which point he takes away her car, cancels her enrollment at St. George's Private School for Trust Babies, and sends her away to the Blessed Sacrament School of Cloistered Nuns where she will spend the rest of her life toiling in the church garden and begging for forgiveness for her misdeeds.