Ignoring The Law Doesn’t Mean The Law Ignores You

(My mom and I are enjoying a girls’ day out, going from one store to the next. We hit some traffic so we have to stop. Then, we feel the car lurch forward and hear a thump sound. Mom looks behind us to see another car far too close.)

Mom: “Did she just hit us?”

Me: “I… I think so.”

Mom: “Seriously? And she’s just sitting there?”

(I get out of the car and walk back. The woman watches me intently. I look at the bumpers touching and look at her. She is now waving her hands like she is shooing me away. I point to the point of contact and she mouths, “It’s okay! It’s fine!” I walk back to her passenger window and knock. She looks straight ahead.)

Me: *knock knock* “Hello? Ma’am, could you please roll your window down?”

Woman: *ignores me*

Me: *knock knock knock* “Excuse me, you hit our car. I just want to see if there’s any real damage. Hello?”

Woman: *still ignores me*

(I shrug and take out my phone, taking a few quick photos of our cars and her in the driver’s seat before walking back to capture her license plate. When I do that, the woman gets out of her car.)

Woman: “Get away from my car!”

Me: “I could say the same to you!”

Woman: “Oh, don’t be such a baby. I barely tapped you.”

Me: “So, you admit there was a connection?”

Woman: “What? No! You tricked me! That’s entrapment!”

Me: “I have the photos I need to file a claim. If you don’t give me your insurance info, I’ll be forced to contact the police and report you for fleeing the scene.”

Woman: “This is ridiculous. There’s no damage!”

Me: “If you’re sure, back up your car so we can see.”

Woman: “No! I don’t have to do anything! You’re harassing me!”

(My mom has a few feet of space in front of her, so she moves forward. Sure enough, there is a softball-sized dent in her bumper.)

Woman: “Oh, my God. You can pop that out so easily. I’m done. I’m just done.”

(With that, she gets back in her car and goes back to ignoring me. I tell Mom to pull over to the side of the road, as traffic is starting to move up ahead. As soon as she has space, the woman darts out of line and flies down the shoulder.)

Mom: “What is she doing?!”

Me: “Leaving. She says she’s not at fault.”

Mom: *stunned* “Seriously?”

Me: “She kept ignoring me, too, like I’d just go away. But I got her info. We can file a claim.”

(We called the local police and explained what happened. The officer on scene looked at me in disbelief and rolled his eyes. After much back and forth between insurance companies, her insurance paid for a new bumper and she was charged with leaving the scene.)