Last September I posted a rant about a woman who hit my friend's truck and then left the scene of the accident. My friend, Matt, had to choose between staying put (and thus not leaving the scene of the accident) or following the woman to get her name, license number and insurance info. In the end, the cop couldn't decide who did what when, because everyone had left the scene of the accident. The woman who hit Matt's car didn't get a ticket, and Matt had to pay for his truck to get fixed. It was a perfect example of how liars and cheaters prosper in our society.
However, someone tried to pull that crap with me and got the full force of the Tantrum. Go team!
Here's the story: Someone hit me in the middle of Sherwood Forest Boulevard, then drove off. I was completely ticked that she drove off more than anything else, so I took off after her, determined to get her license plate number and call the cops.
I followed her, honking the entire way, and basically being as obnoxious as possible to make her pull over. She finally did pull over - into an Enterprise car rental agency on Siegen Lane, where she works. She refused to acknowledge that she hit me, even after I linked the large scrape on my bumper to the long scratch on her van. I'll hereby refer to this woman Pig Vomit because she looks like a pig and she makes me want to vomit.
However, the manager of the Enterprise agency could see that she was at fault, and agreed to pay for damages. And let's be serious about this: rental car agencies have to write down all of the scratches to the car before they take them anywhere. All we would have needed was the latest info on the car to see if the scratch was there before. This was a no-brainer.
But it didn't end there.
In true government fashion, the city police department's dispatch told me to call the sheriff's office since the Enterprise was on Siegen lane - which is outside of city limits. But when the State Police showed up (instead of the sheriff's office - don't ask me how that happened), they told us to go back to the scene of the accident and to call the city police, because the accident occurred within the city police department's jurisdiction. But when both I and Pig Vomit went back to Sherwood Forest and gave our stories to the cop, Pig Vomit blatantly lied and said that she was in the intersection first and that I hit her, blah blah blah. (She didn't count on my wife being a witness.)
That's what I went all Nerd Wars on her.
I pulled out my phone and showed the cop how I had called the City Police (twice) as well as the Sheriff's office. Both parties agreed that we had been at the Enterprise, where we spoke to another police officer. So I asked a few simple questions: Why would I call the cops multiple times if I was in the wrong? Why would I have followed Pig Vomit and honked at her if I had actually hit her? Why would she not have stopped if I had hit her? And finally, why did her face make me want to vomit so profusely?
Thanks to Matt's encounter I was prepared for the worst. I had taken pictures of the scratches on both cars as well as Pig Vomit's license plate. I had written down the name of the State police officer who originally met us at Enterprise. Finally, I put all of this info in my written statement to be filed with the police report.
In the end, the cop knew that Pig Vomit was lying. A five year-old could have told you she was lying. My daughter, Anne, who was in the car when all of this happened, tried her best to projectile poop on Pig Vomit in disgust.
The verdict: Tantrum 1, Pig Vomit 0.
I asked the cop if Pig Vomit could be tazed, but sadly, Baton Rouge police officers do not engage in police brutality. Surely there'd be less liars on the road if they got tazed for each obvious lie they told.
In conclusion, I'd like to settle the score with Pig Vomit. Just ask your boss to lend me a Maserati while he pays to get my bumper replaced, and we'll call it even.