The Girl and I had been on our way to Phipps to meet friends. I was slightly shaken up and a little aggravated. After making sure that The Girl was ok, I got out of the car to talk with the other driver. I was greeted with, 'Oh, ma'am. I am so mother fuckin' sorry.'
Of course, I thought. My car gets rear-ended by the guy who starts our conversation off like this. I took it as an omen that things were probably not going to go well.
To be fair, his car, a large Ford pick-up truck, was in much worse shape than mine. Steam was coming out from under his hood and his front bumper was hanging off. Looking at my car, I saw damage to the bumper. Later I would notice the large dent on my hatch. How I missed it then I don't know. Trick of the light? Just cosmetic though. Our car was still very drivable.
He didn't show me his license, but offered to write down his information. I gave him a pen and paper. He handed it back to me. 'Rick Ford' it said, with a phone number underneath. Now I know that Ford is a legitimate last name- my best friend married a guy by the last name of Ford- but I just found it a bit odd since he was driving a Ford and all.
While we were looking at our cars someone had stopped and come over to the side of the road to ask if we were ok. Had I been thinking, I would have asked the guy for his contact info. It would have been good to have a witness. He stayed the whole time that we were there. It was actually very nice of him.
When I asked 'Rick' for his insurance information, he waved an envelope at me and said, ' I'll give it to you when you call. I've got to get my car out of here.' Of course. I got back in my car, and wrote down his license plate number when he pulled in front of me.
I called the police and filed a report. Then I called my insurance company to file a claim. Everyone was actually kind and sympathetic. I was told by my insurance company that a plate trace would be put through, that it would likely take about a week, and that they would let me know when anything turned up.
A week went by, then two, and then I began to give up hope that they would ever find the guy. I questioned if I wrote down the plate number wrong, although I just had a hard time believing that. The Husband said that I should have taken a picture of the plate with my phone. That never occurred to me, since the last time I was in an accident was before I even had a cell phone. And then I felt old.
Three weeks after the accident I got a call from the insurance company. First, they wanted to let me know that I had an appointment for my car to get worked on. Which I knew because, um, I had made the appointment myself. Oh, ok. Well, by the way she added, we tracked down your guy.
Unbelievably great news. They were just trying to figure out if he had insurance at the time of the accident. Which I took to mean they hadn't gotten in touch with him yet. At any rate they found him. I was relieved.