Today was interesting. My typical Saturday morning includes waking up before the sun is up and throwing on my grubbiest jeans, sweatshirt and baseball hat, making my way over to mom’s house to pick her up for what is sure to be a fruitful morning of yard sales. What I wasn’t planning was the 55 MPH chase down Foothill Blvd., trying to catch up to the truck that hit my truck on the side of the road…except that he didn’t hit my truck, he hit my in-laws truck!

Mom and I were checking out all of the awesome goodies at a fabulous yard sale when we heard a huge CRASH! All of us (which included the home owner and a few other shoppers) shot around to see what happened. We saw glass and plastic flying and a huge Service Masters Truck driving down the road.

“That truck [pause] just hit [pause, wide eyes]….THAT TRUCK JUST HIT MY CAR!!! And, it’s not pulling over.”

I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t catch the license plate. I didn’t think I would be able to catch up.

“GO….catch up to that truck!” my mom exclaimed.

I jumped into the truck, flew down the street, cutting off another car and raced down Foothill Blvd. going over 50 MPH, trying to catch up to the Service Masters Truck that was now barely in sight. Ahead of me, the light at Loraine turned red. Do I blow through the light? Do I stop? Phew…it turned green before I got there and I continued my chase. I could see the large truck now and was on its tail. I called 911 and was able to pass along information to the dispatcher, including vehicle description and lisence plate number.

The truck turned into the High School Parking lot, clearly watching me follow and talking feverishly on my phone. We pulled side by side (I’m still on the phone with dispatch).


“What? OMG! I’m so sorry…I’ll fix it. I’ll take care of it!”

What I thought was some punk kid trying to evade responsibility ended up being a middle aged professional, who honestly thougth that a ball or rock hit his truck.

Have you ever had those moments, driving down the road in a complete daze, watching where you are going but not paying a bit of attention? That’s pretty much what happened.

And, Tod (that’s who hit me…we’re pals now) took care the repair. Which, by the way is finished.

DAVE: You’re truck is ALLLLL good! Here’s a picture for proof! Thanks for letting me borrow it every week…errr…day!