Yesterday, we got the whicker chairs down from the Carriage House and put them on the porch. We got it all set up for another fabulous Summer season.
Tonight, we had our first dinner on the porch. Tacos, refried beans and Spanish rice. I augmented my meal with a frosty cold Modelo Negro. It was quite tasty.
Shortly after we sat down, we heard a loud screeching of tires from down the block on Post Street. This black pick up came serving around the corner, almost hitting the far curb, and then accelerated down Waverly Place right past us at a high rate of speed.
All I can say for sure is it was a black late model pick up, possibly a Chevy. It was a white guy driving. Beyond that, I don’t have any information.
If there was a hit and run accident down the street, I couldn’t tell.
I’ve been wishing that I had paid more attention, maybe get a partial license number or a more accurate description of the trunk or the guy.
After dinner, I was sitting on the porch swing and I made a point of looking at license plates of cars as they drove by. There is no way I can make out a plate from the porch.
So I don’t feel quite so bad now but I need to make more of an effort to notice more details in the heat of the moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment