Last night around 10:30, there was a violent banging at my front door. Even though there was an urgency to the knock, I decided to ignore it. I figured that the only person that would be knocking at my door that late would be my crazy neighbor, who was undoubtedly drunk or high at that hour of the night.
The knock came again and Matilda went crazy. Her loud, incessant barking blew my cover and I started to get a little scared. Her barking combined with my car parked out front pretty much let everyone know that I was at home and ignoring the door.
The knock came again about a minute later and this time, my phone started ringing at the same time. I was totally freaked.
“This is the City Police Department. Is this…”
“Do you still live at…”
“Well, I have an officer knocking at your door right now. Would you please answer the door? He needs to speak with you.”
My fear was relieved, but then anxiety creept in.
“M’aam, is this your car?”
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“Would you come take a look at it for me? A drunk driver hit a few cars on your street and we think he may have damaged your car.”
My anxiety peaked and then quickly went away as he showed me the “damage” he had observed.
This is above the left rear tire. The next picture is above the left front tire. You can barely see the scrape.
The car down the street was all crunched and dented.
I am thankful that no one was hurt, that the damage to my car was minor, and that they were able to get the driver off the street before someone was killed.
I’m also thankful that the person at the door was an officer because when I went down the steps to answer the door, my dog, Matilda, decided to stay upstairs in the bed. Some watch dog she is.