Let's see, um...it sucks.

But why? You're home, you have a car to play with and you have nothing to do at home but catch up on sleep!?

Few corrections. I DON'T have a car to play with while I'm home. Not at all. Not now. What happened? Let's see. I'll recap the whole nasty thing for you...

3:30 am Saturday morning. I'm sitting in the living room watching a little TV before I crawl off to bed. Suddenly, SCCCCRRREEEEEEEEEECCCCCHHHH!!!...BANG!!!!!!

I raced out front to find a 1978 white Corvette plastered head-on into my sister's car, The Tank. My first reaction?

"Are you okay?"

The response from the driver of the car was to slam it into reverse and screech backwards into the pole directly behind him....then drive off. But not before I got the license plate number and what I considered a 'good look' at him. I woke my parents and examined the wreck of the Caprice. The front end was FOLDED into itself. Severe Battle Damage. I discovered I was shaking like crazy and ran into the house calling out the numbers I remembered from the license plate.

I called the cops and they got there in a little over 15 minutes. I spent the time talking to the fellow from across the street, who seems very much like Dan Laroquette from Night Court without the letcherous tendencies. He assured me that with the license I had gotten and the front fender the driver had left on our lawn, we'd get the guy no problem.

Two cops showed up and asked us about the accident. I descibed it in full vivid detail, as it was fresh in my mind and I had just told it all to my parents and the neighbors. A third cop showed up and asked two specific questions about the Corvette, both of which we answered using the fender. He said "Hey! I think I know where this guy is. I see that car all the time! I'll be right back".

Sure enough, two minutes later the other two cops drove off "We'll be right back." I figured "They've got him." When they got back I was asked if I could identify the guy...to which I would have said yes if I was in a better state. I said I got a fairly good look at him. They said that wasn't good enough. Then they told us our options. An accident report, and that was about it.

I've never seen my father quite so mad. You see, this isn't the first car someone has trashed at our house this way. This is just the first one we could find the guy's car easily. They found him alright. But he wasn't answering his door. All we could do was file an accident report. We said "No way. We want a full report...this guy was proabably drunk, and people do this ALL the time." They refused at first, then the third cop came back and said "Do it." So they did, but not without warning us that it was a waste of time at best. I personally think a warrant for someone's arrest isn't a waste of time when they leave the scene of an accident.

The third cop said "It's a real shame our firemen act this way too."

What?

Yep, kids. You guessed it. The man who totaled my sister's car and raced off when I saw him was none other than a Baldwin Volunteer Fireman. I've marched in parades with these men. I've been to benefit dinners for these men. I support the voluteer fire department to the best of my unemployed abilities.

I'm furious. A drunk driver is a drunk driver. Someone who leaves the scene of an accident is someone who leaves the scene of an accident. My parents can't afford a new car, they just bought one. We only needed three cars for another few months. What happens now? Insurance won't cover the cost of fixing this car. It's a 1986 Caprice Classic with body damage. Who knows how the engine will be after this? And this fireman will get away with it. I've been to his house. I've seen the car he impaled on our car, and I saw him. The cops have his name.

But they can't arrest him because they didn't see him in the car and I "can't identify him".

Show me a lineup. I'll pick his sorry coward ass out of a lineup. Hell, I'd pick his sorry ass out of a large crowd in a supermarket. I'll drive on over to the Baldwin Firehouse and drag his sorry ass into the street for my friends and family to spit on. Volunteer fireman, my ass. A drunk driver who leaves the scene of an accident should be beaten senseless with insurance claims, a revoked license, and stiff fines. And don't get me started on why it's not going to happen. Don't get me started on how one asshole's joyride will cost my family hundreds of dollars and a good, working car we've had for years and would have had a few more. Don't get me started on how this asshole took away MY car because I can't have one upstate when they need two at home.

Don't get me started on the lack of respect I now have cemented even more for drunk drivers. I'm just glad he only killed a car. An empty car. My dreams that night showed me Brian, crossing my street to get to his car and being hit my that same white Corvette because he left a half hour later. And me cracking open that fireman's windshield, hood, and finally, his head, with an aluminum baseball bat.

My subconscious mind is a bit more violent than my actual self. I would very much like to verbally disrespect that fireman in front of all the other firemen. And his family. And all prospective bosses.