An Open Letter To The Neighborhood Crazy Lady
I saw you on Monday morning, and you gave my daughter and I quite a fright. In fact I've had to take a couple of days to process the whole event before I could even begin to write you.
We saw you sitting in your parked vehicle in the middle of the road. It quickly became apparent that you hadn't properly defrosted your windshield. (probably late getting your child to school ... again.) You were facing east, so I presume that as soon as you turned in that direction, you were instantly blinded by the sun's rays coupled with the poorly removed frost on your windshield.
So there you sat, in the middle of the road, waiting. For what? Possibly the ice scrapping fairies or perhaps the magical defrosting gods. As I said, you're crazy. After a moment, you seemed to think you had your bearings. Clearly you did not. What you apparently could not see, was that you had stopped a mere inches away from the left side bumper of a parked vehicle. As I watched in horror, you shifted your car into drive, and smashed right into that poor car. The crunching sound is still rattling around in my head.
But what happened next was the most surprising of all. You jumped out of your vehicle to see just what it was you hit, when I realized what you were wearing. Black pajamas with cats all over the pants, a ratty gray robe, a pair of to large men's athletic flip flops and hair all askew! You were a ridiculous sight as you flew around the car, inspecting the damage, with the belt of your robe trailing pathetically behind you.
It was just sad really. You need help ... and also the name of a good body shop. Your bumper is gonna need it!
Sincerely,
Addie (aka The Neighborhood Crazy Lady. So crazy in fact, she writes letters to herself ... um, I mean, myself)