So, yesterday I asked you guys to embarrass yourself in the comments, and you did not disappoint.
One confession in particular really stuck out for me:
I realized that if I dinged someone’s car in the parking lot , I would not leave a note. If someone dinged my car and left a note, I would not accept any money. I’d be like pfff! You seen my clunker? Repair a scratch? Ha! I think that you should expect a perfect car when it’s new, and after that, dings and dents come with the territory. If I wouldn’t pay for a dent-repair on MY car, I’m not going to offer to pay for yours either.
At first I was all like, “Sheesh, that’s not very nice.”
Then I remembered something– when I was in high school I did this.
A group of friends and I were on our way to Six Flags, and we pulled into the bank parking lot to get some money from the ATM. We were being typical teenagers, and when I pulled out of the space–I backed right into the door of someone’s car. I should have left a note.
I should have called my mom. Isn’t that why she GAVE me a cell phone in the first place?
But I didn’t… I didn’t do any of this. Instead, I listened to the cute boy sitting in the back seat of my Bronco. When he said, “DRIVE!” I did.Plus, I really wanted to go to Six Flags, because I knew when I got scared on the big roller coasters he would hold my hand…
I drove off.
The entire door of that car was all crushed in, and I just drove off and left it. We’re not talking a little baby ding here–we’re talking those people probably had to go get a new door for their car.
And it was my fault. Just writing this blog post I feel bad about it. I feel like I am going to get caught, too. I feel like the police have been looking for the girl who smashed in that door on that old beat up car for the last 15 years and now they are going to come to my house and take me away.
Now, that’s the kind of emotion I am scared to write about.
Those feelings, the way that made me feel that day to be such an asshole of a person. Now, when I think back–I can kind of rationalize it. You see, teenagers are impulsive and they do things without thinking… this was obviously one of those moments for me.
But let’s be clear here… I knew leaving was wrong, and I did it anyway because I didn’t want to face the consequences. The thing is–I didn’t have to, either.
Well, that’s not entirely true–I’ve spent the last fifteen years knowing I wrecked someone’s car and feeling like a jackass about it.