The wife and I drove up to Phoenix (about 200 miles, 100 or so in the rain) this past Wednesday for a business seminar on Thursday and Friday. We got checked into the hotel and headed out for dinner at a nice restaurant. As I always do I parked way out in the parking lot by no other cars. Yup you guessed it, when we come out some ASSHOLE'S Nissan Ultima is kissing the front of my Z. I'M PISSED, we call the police on the cell, he shows in about 15 min. and as I knew, informed us its on private property, nothing he can do unless the owner won't take care of any damages, then it's hit and run.
So the 1 1/2 hour wait in the cold continues. The restaurant manager comes out to see if he can help but they have no intercom in the restaurant (he tells me his dad has a Vette and knows how Vette owners are about their cars). I'm thinking ice pick to his tires (nope can't do that, the police have my name on their log sheet, damn). Finally he shows with about six or seven of his salesman type buddies. I confront him and tell him I need his license and insurance info, he's blowing me off until I tell him what the police had to say, guess what it's a rental and he's from Minnesota. He moves his car and his friends try and come to his rescue. "How do we know you didn't come after him?" " Because I've been waiting out in the cold for an hour and a half,ASSHOLE!" "How do we know your car didn't roll into his?" "Because cars don't roll up hill, ASSHOLE!" They tell me doesn't appear to be any damage, couldn't be more that a scratch. A SCRATCH, if I can see anything with a magnifing glass your paying for it ASSHOLE! As I put on my best impersonation of fcalmes poodle baring its teeth we left. Washed the car Saturday, thank God for Zaino, no scratches. The Guy never even said he was sorry, what a JERK.