Yesterday evening, Mr. W and I dropped off his son at the gym (we’d both worked out at lunch already and weren’t feeling fighting the after-work crowd for a second session) and went to a nearby mall to kill time until we had to pick son up again. On the drive to the mall, Mr. W got a phone call from his parents and we stayed in the car after parking so he could finish the call. As he gabbed away, I watched a guy joined at the hip with a girl walk to their car in the parking aisle we were facing. I first noticed him because he was carrying a Victoria’s Secret bag in his left hand, and slung across his left hip and opposite right shoulder diagonally was a rather effeminate looking brown cloth bookbag. His right arm was around the girl. He opened her car door, she got in, he handed her the Victoria’s Secret bag, then removed the cloth bag from his shoulder and handed that to her as well. I realized it was HER bag. As he circled around the back of the older-model teal car to the driver’s side, I wondered if his testicles were also in that fabric bag. He got in, and they proceeded to back their car out the “wrong” direction of the angled parking aisle. Mr. W was now hanging up his call, and thus could comment, “Oh, THAT’s nice,” as their teal car banged right into the back of a pick-up truck parked behind the whipped guy’s car across his aisle. We both got out of Mr. W’s car. The teal car pulled forward away from the pick-up, still going the wrong way, slowly. And kept going. I yelled out the license plate number to Mr. W. At the end of the aisle, the losers slowed and paused, watching us. YES, there are WITNESSES, you weasels. Mr. W waved his arm at them, motioning them to come back. They didn’t move. And then when they did, they turned away from us and took off.

What a puss! Mr. W wrote a note describing the vehicle and I gave him a juicy description of the driver, explained what had occurred, left the time of the incident, and stuck the note on the truck. Walking into the mall, I wondered if the teal car would circle around and come back to see if we’d left a note, and take it off the pick-up. Then I realized if they’re gonna do a hit-and-run with 2 witnesses, they’re gonna be too chickenshit to come back for fear that we’d still be there, and maybe the truck owner would be by then, too, and if we didn’t get his license plate # the first time, now we just might.

So to the 5’7ish Latino/Filipino 180lb male with his 5’5ish 160lb Latino girlfriend driving a late 80s model teal Ford Probe (?) parked at the Westfield Mall and committed a hit-and-run at 8:30p last nite, BAD KARMA VIBES to you!!!