Live From New York
Sunday Stealing: Our Own Meme

Poor Penelope's Pains


Poor Penny got her first booboo already on Monday! We went for a lunch-time mystery shop, and when we got back out to our car, Rob exclaimed, "Somebody hit your car!" I totally thought he was pulling my leg, so I rolled my eyes and said, "Whatever." But he kept standing there and staring at my bumper, not saying anything, so I strode over and took a look.

Holy FECK!

Someone sure DID hit my car. My jaw dropped. I think I picked it up about two days later.

We found some red paint on my van. And the car next to us was red. And had a pretty well matching booboo of its own on the corresponding rear bumper.

The owner came out and saw us looking around at both cars, and she asked what was going on. I blurted out, "You hit my car!" and she pretty much went ballistic, vehemently denying it up and down, blah blah blah.

I'm not certain she hit my car. But something very similar to my paint rubbed off on Rob's fingers when he touched her booboo. I know, he shouldn't have done that. And I shouldn't have told her, or the policeman who arrived (and couldn't do anything, because it was on private property) at the scene, or our insurance companies, that he did that. But he did.

So it really didn't make sense when she said her accident was two years old, AND she'd just had a car wash. Really now?

So then, how did my paint rub off your scratch?

Just curious.