And ending the above sentence with a preposition.
There I was, minding my own business, heading home after hiking with the dog and running an errand to pick up a styrofoam shipping container so I could send a big bunch of freshly harvested eggplant and chilies to my daughter when all of a sudden a number of events occurred almost simultaneously:
The auditory pathways of my brain registered a pop, I was showered with glass and Jake, sitting on the passenger seat behind me, let out a high-pitched shriek.
It took a millisecond for my brain to grasp all of the above.
My first thought was the dog. Had he been injured? I pulled to the curb and reached into the back seat, dragging Jake into the front passenger seat. I didn’t see any blood, couldn’t feel a wound.
I put on my emergency flashers and dialed 9-1-1. And then I leashed Jake and got out of the car. As I stared at the shards of safety glass all over my car, literally all over the interior of my car, my heart began to pound and I started shaking. I’m not the hysterical type, but I did sort of feel like crying as I waited for the police to arrive.
Someone had taken a shot at me– from a car driving the opposite way. Whoever it was had probably been aiming at the driver’s window but missed and hit the passenger window.
Jesus. This is not something you expect to happen on a quiet semi-rural street in small town California at 9:30 in the morning.
Chances are it was a pellet gun. The only reason I say that is because once the officer got there he and he searched for some sort of exit hole on the other side of the car and couldn’t find one, although I did have the window open on the opposite side and any projectile would likely have gone straight through because it didn’t hit the dog.
It was definitely not a rock. A. The officer and I couldn’t find a rock or any sort of debris on the street and B. I didn’t hear a crash or a thud, I heard a pop at almost the exact same instance the window shattered.
Anyway, the police officer was great. He made me feel better and he was really nice to Jake. Jake liked him a lot.
Then something happened that could only happen to me. (Cuz being shot at ain’t weird enough.) After the officer and I had talked and inspected my vehicle and searched the area, he called for backup. He said, “Wait here. I’d like to get another set of eyes on the scene and you’ll need a case number for your insurance company.” So we’re waiting and…
This gold Lexus pulls up to the curb in front of me. The officer and I both look, and we’re both thinking, Oh, good. Maybe someone witnessed the event.
So this older guy gets out of his car and he walks up to us, right past my shattered window, jagged pieces of safety glass everywhere, and he says, “Got caught speeding, did ya? Serves ya right.”
And that police officer stepped in front of me and laid into this man like you wouldn’t believe. My hero!
And then the guy has the nerve to persist and he says, “I want to make a complaint. I got a ticket for…”
And the officer says, “Sir, get back in your car. I’ll talk to you when we’re finished. This is a crime scene.”
And the guy says, “But…”
And the officer says, “Sir, get back in your car NOW.” (Shades of Reese Witherspoon!)
Instead the guy walks over to my dog and says, “Hey, can I pet your dog? And he grabs for him. Jake, who had been a love with the police man, didn’t growl but he gave the guy a nasty look and moved away from him.
So the guy leans over, reaches for Jake, and says, “C’mere, doggie doggie doggie…”
And the officer says, “Sir, if you don’t get back in your car right NOW I’m going to cite you for disorderly conduct, handcuff you, and take you down to the station.”
I was tempted to let Jake bite the guy’s nuts off. Which Jake is perfectly capable of doing. And I’m certain the police officer would not have said boo.
Anyway, the glass people come to replace the window today. I’d have taken a picture but there’s nothing to see– the window simply doesn’t exist anymore. The entire window imploded, which I think is what safety glass is intended to do. It’s not supposed to be sharp, but I did get my hands cut up brushing fragments and slivers from the dog. Fortunately his long hair protected him.
I think this is enough excitement for the week. Don’t you?