It's so unsettling, that brute opposing force, the rejection of your claim to motion.
To be honest, my first instinct was to move forward, reverse out the other way, and leave. I couldn't have done much damage to the other guy, right? I just wanted to go watch Slither with Lisa and Rick. But the owner of the truck, who had parked his vehicle in a spot that was not a parking space because NOTHING HAS EVER BEEN THERE IN THE NINE MONTHS I HAVE LIVED HERE, came out asking bemusedly if I'd hit him.
Yeah, I really let him have it!! That picture was taken after he had cleared away the glass from his bumper. The red-and-yellow glass. I thought it was his. But, no.
He said I could glue it back together. I...was doubtful.
WHY IS MY BUMPER MADE OF STYROFOAM? MY CAR IS A DEATH TRAP.
My kooky old French landlord said he had seen cases like this before, and the law said that regardless of the fact that someone wasn't parked in a proper space, it was still purely my fault for hitting them, since they counted as a pole or any other sort of obstruction.
"Do you like white wine?" he asked.
"No," I said, "but I have friends who do."
He retrieved a bottle of white wine. "I'm going to give you this wine since something terrible has happened to you, and you are going to give it to your friend, and maybe you will get something in return." I think he meant sex. If so, the wine was unsuccessful.
I don't even know what to do. I don't know how much it costs to get this fixed. I don't know if it's illegal to have a broken taillight cover if the light still works. I don't want to deal with this.
In conclusion, I suck at life.