It's Tuesday night, of the same day as the Wal-Mart incident. I am finished blogging for the night in the library and am just poking around the Internet, checking on my favorite bloggers and looking in on the news of the day, when I heard a call over the intercom: "Would the owner of a black PT Cruiser please come to the circulation desk? Thank you." High ho, what now? I leave something open or on? Someone break in? When I arrive my attention is directed to a man who is saying, "I hit your car, I want you to come look and make sure it is OK." He is very apologetic in his attitude. I'm thinking, parking lot, low speed, it's snowing--how bad can it be? We get out there and he points out the impact point on his car, a small Nissan product, then to my car.
He hit my bumper with his bumper. I check for cracks in the lenses of the reverse lights and tail lights--no damages.
If anything, he may have a dark mark on his light colored bumper from my grey bumper.
He wants to leave name, number, in case. I wave him off; we hit bumpers, no harm, no foul.
He gets into his car to leave, I return to the library, chuckling. What a contrast to the earlier encounter. And what a pleasure, too. Thank you sir, for giving me a smile.