It was Valentine's Day, and already the day had gone shittier than I had imagined. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten laid on Valentine's Day or even had a Valentine, for that matter. I had just dropped my kids off at their father's house at his request. His new wife had a Valentine's Day party planned for them. I felt sorry for myself for a moment. I was still single, even after two marriages and a handful of other failed relationships. I got in my Honda Civic and began the drive to the post office. I minded my own business, and I wasn't even texting and driving when I felt my whole car lurch forward violently. It took a few moments to realize that someone had hit me from behind.
"FUCK!" I screamed, unable to believe that this was happening. I had just gotten my car repaired from the last accident I was in, also not my fault. I pulled off to the side of the road, grabbed my wallet and phone, and got out of the car.
"What the hell was that, lady?" An older businessman got out of the Cadillac that had hit me. Our cars definitely bore some damage.
"Me? You're the one that hit me from behind! It's obviously your fault!" I screamed back at him. "Let me get your information so I can call my insurance."
"I'm not giving you my information," the man rolled his eyes. He began to take pictures of the back of my car and the front of his.
"Then I'm calling the police!" I screamed again. This man had some nerve! I hated him instantly, and I couldn't believe that he was such a douche. I had to admit, he was good looking with slicked-back dark hair and a shadow of a beard. He had pale blue eyes and a strong jawline. He obviously had money. His cuff links looked like they might cost more than my Honda Civic.
"Oh, come on, you know the cops won't do anything. Besides, I'll be gone by then. I have an important meeting. You understand, right?"
I took a couple photos of his license plate and smirked at him. "Yeah, I'm sure the cops will enjoy picking you up after I report that you did a hit and run!"
"For fuck's sake, lady! What do you want from me? Do you think I'm made of money or something? Do you think that you're going to file some fraudulent report with the police and they are going to do something about it? Think again. The cops have bigger and better things to do than rescue you and your Honda." He said Honda like it was a dirty word.
"Excuse me?" I screamed at him. "My Honda gets excellent gas mileage. Now, if only pricks like you would stop running into me!" I called the police and put the phone up to my ear ceremoniously.
"I'm leaving!" the man walked back to his car and made a big production of getting in and pressing the automatic start button. I giggled a bit as his car tried to start but was unable to complete the process. It stalled out. "Fuck!" he screamed. He tried again, but the car wasn't going to start.
"Yes, I'd like to report an accident. The man who hit me is trying to flee the scene, but his car won't start. Yes, I have photos of the car and license plate, as well as the damage. I even have one of him trying to flee. Oh, yes. Thank you, ma'am." I hung up the phone. I dialed my insurance company next, trying to stay out of earshot of the businessman. He was on the phone too, probably calling his insurance company like I was. I sat down on the curb next to my car as I finished my phone call.
The man paced back and forth in a patch of grass near our cars while I sat quietly on the curb, waiting. I didn't want to use my phone too much because I was almost out of battery. I listened to the man field several calls and concluded he must be some sort of salesman. The cops arrived rather quickly and took down our information. They skillfully cut through the bullshit and determined that the businessman was at fault for the accident since he hit me from behind. I learned that the man's name was Darren Bivens, and I also knew that things weren't going well for him with work either.
Darren's phone rang as the cops got into their car and drove away. He began a hushed conversation, and I couldn't help but listen in.
"Oh, come on!" he screamed into his phone as he lost another sale. He hung up and looked at me with disdain. "When is the tow truck going to get here?"
"I don't know. I don't need a tow. My car is just fine. If you need a tow truck, I suggest you call one." I walked around to the driver's side of my car and got in. I was about to drive away when I noticed the check engine light was on. Fuck. I had the worst luck. Now I would have to call my own tow truck and wait.
"Look, there's tracking information on my phone," I showed Darren. "It looks like it's going to be hours before my tow truck arrives."
Darren checked his tracking information and saw a similar wait time. "Just great. What are we supposed to do for two hours?"
"I don't know..." I gave it some thought. Darren continued to pace and talk on his phone until his battery ran out. "I need a phone charger."
"If I had one, I'd be using it."
"You wouldn't let me borrow it anyway. You don't like me at all," Darren pointed at me to emphasize his accusation.
"Maybe I would like you more if you weren't such an asshole."
"Well, if I'm an asshole, then you're a bitch. You have been nothing but bitchy to me since I..." he paused.
"Since you ran into my car?" I offered.
"Yeah, that. Look, lady. I'm sorry I ran into your car. I didn't see you until it was too late." Finally, Darren was apologizing.
"Okay, I accept your apology since you admit that you did indeed run into me."
"Look, I'm not usually so tense. I had a big deal going through today, and I was counting on it. Now I'm stuck here with you, and it looks like my deal is going to fall apart." He sat down next to me on the curb, his Republican tie hanging down to meet the pavement as he buried his head in his hands.
"I'm sorry, Darren."
"You know my name?"
"You gave it to the cops," I reminded him.
"I didn't catch your name," he turned toward me with new interest.
"Elcie," I extended my hand for him to shake.
"That's a unique name. You're the first woman I know named Elcie."
