History repeats itself.

Back in the day when I drove $50 crap cans as daily drivers I had a women back into me and dented my right rear passengers door.

She went into a dither and carried on about insurance companies and notifying the police and accident reports and so on and so forth. It's the last thing a young driver wants to hear and I imaging she thought the damage would cost hundreds to repair.

I looked at it and told the frantic woman that the entire car cost me $50 and a Saturday afternoon's work and was treated to an "I don't understand."

So I explained to her that I never pay more than $50 for a car and just fix them up myself and that everything would be OK and she should just go away because her car wasn't hurt at all.

She asked who would fix my car and to get her off my back I said that I would even though I wasn't going to bother. Finally out of oncoming desperation just to get rid of her I said, "Tell you what. I've got to go into the church hall for about an hour. If you want just grab a six-pack of PBR and throw it into the back seat. I'll leave it unlocked."

She grew wide-eyed and asked me how old I was and I told her I was 19 and she said, "But that's illegal."

"Well then don't worry about it. I'll just call my dad to pick me up one on his way home from work. None of this is any big thing. I'll fix it myself and we can skip the paperwork. I gotta get in there before I'm late."

With that I walked off. 

About an hour later I returned to my car and saw the coat I had left in the back seat was covering something. It wasn't a 6-pack. It was a case of PBR. I laughed and tried to picture the woman sneaking up to the car carrying a case of beer, looking around for the police and rapidly tossing in back, covering it with my coat and driving off scared out of her wits.

Fifty years later, Homeless Depot parking lot. 

Some lady brushed against my pickup ever so slightly while parking. I was still in the pickup getting ready to leave. I was answering a text before I fired up to go home. I actually never felt it and out of the corner of my eye saw her get out and look at my rear fender and came and was practically in tears as she reported to me she had hit my fender.

I got out and inspected the mark. It was a big, fat nothing burger complete with bacon, lettuce and tomato. I scratched the little chip of her paint off or it and told her not to worry about it but she was still upset.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "When I get home I'll grab a can of rubbing compound and make it disappear in about two minutes. You'll never know it happened."

She was dubious as hell and clearly had it blown out of proportion in her head. She was clearly upset and I tried to console her just to get her to go away. It was someone making a mountain out of a molehill.

"Look," I said. "If you really feel you have to do something about this to make your guilt go away then the next time you're at a convenience store or supermarket then pick up a simple four pack of Guinness and put it on my porch. You don't have to and I don't expect it but if you truly feel you have to do something than go ahead. It's no big thing. I don't care." With that I gave her my street address.

I got home a couple of hours later and found an entire case of Guinness on my porch. I shook my head.

Go figure.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY