Monday 10 September 2012

Scrape

I'm officially getting old now.  I've reached the age where I need varifocals.

It's been coming for a few years.  When I was in my early 40s, my optician told me that at some point (probably in the then  next year) I'd find that I was having a bit of difficulty reading.   Each year I went back for my eye test, and each year the optician expressed surprise that It hadn't happened.

A couple of years ago, I tried to read something one morning and found I couldn't focus on the page.  A bit later in the day, it was fine.   The same thing happened one evening.   At my next appointment, my optician confirmed that it was nearly time.   She explained the pros and cons of varifocals; however, the incidences of not being able to read were very spaced out,  and I decided to carry on for a while, as the reading problem was very intermittent and wasn't causing any problems.

And then a couple of weeks ago, it wasn't intermittent any more.  I was fine reading my 'puter,  I was fine when there was contrast.  But I was struggling to read the crossword clue numbers in the newspaper, and the print on jars,  and I had to keep adjusting the text size on my Kindle. (What a fantastic thing to be able to do. When my eyes are tired, I make the text bigger. When my eyes are OK, I make the text smaller!).  I can't abide it when people deny they are having sight or hearing problems, so on my next visit to town I called in to the optician to choose some glasses.  I had to have another sight test as I felt my eyes had deteriorated significantly (in the reading capability) and if I was going to get new specs it should be with the latest prescription.

Some time later I emerged and went back to my car.  I was getting in when a man appeared and asked me to take a look at my car.  He pointed to the rear quarter. "Was that there when you left the car?" he asked, indicating a dent and scrape.   No, it hadn't been. My poor car.   He then went on to tell me that he and his passenger had been sitting in the car in front of mine and had heard a crash. They then saw the car behind me continue to force its way out of the space by damaging my car.  The driver drove off without stopping.

He gave me his details, and told me to report it to a local police station.   I was in a bit of shock.   I hadn't noticed, I would have driven home and not noticed until I next passed the back of the car.   I would have had to pay to get it fixed, or lose my no claims discount.  Thank goodness there were witnesses!  I thanked him profusely,  and went to the police station to make my report.

I phoned the insurance company and told them about it.  There are a lot of insurance scams going on, so they asked a lot of questions.   They confirned that the other vehicle was insured, so they would start the process.    Again I was thankful that someone had witnessed the incident and had given me the information.

Some days later, the Constable to whom I reported the incident phoned me.  The driver has 24 hours to report an accident, and no report was received.  (That surprised me a bit, especially as the other driver's insurance company would have been contacted: surely that would have prompted them to 'fess up.)   He had spoken to the witnesses, who confirmed the details. And there was CCTV footage which showed the entire incident.   How lucky was that?!

What a rotten thing for the other driver to have done.   If they had waited for me (or left their details), I would not have been angry, it's just a car after all and it can be fixed. But the fact that they drove off and then failed to report it really has made me cross.   I think it's a s*itty thing to do to someone.

All the hassle (driving to the Police station, the Police report takes quite a while to fill in;  all the extra time on the phone to the Insurance company because it was a hit-and-run,); all the worry of what would happen; all the Police time taken up with this,  the witnesses time;   and what if I hadn't been lucky enough to have witnesses? The driver wasn't to know that.    I hope they throw the book at her.

Followers