Yesterday a gaggle of us went to lunch at a fast food Greek place. It was excellent. The excitement happened before making it to the restaurant. We had invited a visitor to our assemblies and he rode with me to the restaurant.
We parked a block away and began to walk to the restaurant. We waited at the intersection and watched as a car was hit from behind while trying to turn left. The driver of the car who hit the car from behind made a split second decision and ran (or I should say drove) for it. See you later, out of here.
I stepped into the intersection (after the car had sped past) to be a good citizen and capture the license plate number. It was a temporary DMV tag. The kind that should be used to check vision instead of the eye charts. I couldn’t make out anything.
We made it safely across the intersection and approched the person who had been hit. I gave them my business card told them I was sorry I couldn’t get a license plate number. Two other people approached as well with the similar experience. A crime (hit and run) with three witnesses. And no one to which we can point the finger.
Feels like I’m living in Steve’s neighborhood.
