Car park accident with a parked car?

I had a minor accident on a supermarket car park yesterday. Pulling into a bay I touched my car’s bumper with that of another car. There was no-one in the car so I assume they were still shopping.

Realizing the space might be a little narrow, I decided to park in the next row, where I had a look at the little scratch on my bumper and hunted for paper and a pen. I then wrote down my name and phone number and went to put the paper under the other car’s wiper, however being absorbed in what I was doing I didn’t the vehicle leave.

I then went inside the store to ask if they had CCTV coverage of the car park to try to find the car’s registration number to try to contact them so I could apologize and sort it out properly. It seems the store has very limited CCTV so unless it occurred right outside the doors the incident was not seen.

I asked with customer services and security whether there had been any report of damage to a car, but the owner seems not to have noticed and driven off. I then gave my name and phone details to customer services, along with the best description I could give of the car, in case the owner came back. I have so far heard noting and it has been around 14 hours.

I am aware that the police should be informed of incidents within 24 hours, however I am unsure what information I could give them. The car was fairly new, grey and a small 4×4 but I don’t have any more information then that.

The security person at the supermarket told me to leave it because accidents happen all the time on the car park. But I am very aware it could be very serious if there was a witness, plus I feel very guilty.

Do I go to the police with the little information I have? If so, what do they do? Do they track down all grey 4x4s in the area and ask if they have a scratch or just see if someone makes a claim that matches my description?

I was initially hoping this could be settled without going through insurance but I assume this isn’t an option if the police get involved?

Any information or advice would be greatly appreciated.

whats a true Scot?

Being scottish is about driving a german car to an irish pub to drink belgian beer, then travelling home, grabbing a indian curry or turkish kebab on the way to sit on swedish furniture and watch american tv shows on a japanese tv.

and the most scottish thing of all ?. Suspicion of all things foriegn.

Only in scotland can a pizza get to your home faster than an ambulance.
Only in scotland do supermarkets make sick people walk all the way to the back of the store to get there prescriptions while healthy people can buy there fags at the door.
Only in scotland do we leave cars worth thousands of pounds on the drive and up our junk and cheap lawnmower in the garage.
NOT TO MENTION.

18 scots had seriose injuries in 2000 trying on a new jumper with a lit cigerette in thier mouth.
4 scots got broken arms last year after cracker pulling accidents.
In 2000, 8 scots were admitted to hospital with fractured skulls incurred whilst throwing up in tiolet.

proud to be a scot ru

does insurance company allow to accept liability on your behalf?

Hi all
my wife reverse out of supermarket car park she look round it was clear ,she reverse out about 15 inchs, the other woman came down the wrong way behind other park car and crash into my wife, I phone my insurance give detail , less than 24 hour I haven’t give my statement or sketch of the accident. my insurance company phone me saying they accept fault on my behalf I tell them I am not accept fault , she said as long as you reverse no matter what it your fault, I then ask her if she reverse out and I speed up and crash staight in to her ,who fault is that she said the reversing party I think it a insurance scam , please tell me is it illegal for my insurance to accept so quickly on my behalf
Thank you

Do you like where you live?

Okay here’s the story. I’ve been living in DC most of my life and I lived in NW. NW is by far the best part of the city. It’s where most of the life is. I has all the best neighborhoods like Georgetown, Adams Morgan, Mt.Pleasant, Columbia Heights, Kalorama, and etc.i lived in Adams Morgan and I miss Nw. Now I live in Southeast…and it sucks because my mom wanted to downgrade into a cheap 3 bedroom condo…I hate everything about SE. The people, the buildings. There isn’t anything no clubs, movie theaters, culture, no fun. All it is a drug infested, ghetto, poor, and unemployed section. For many years there was only 1 supermarket for all of SE, they just opened a Giant in the spring of 2008…The people I live around are so ghetto..and the men here are gross. The ward I live in is the highest for STDs and HIV….gross. My mom told me, my little bother and little sister to never speak to anyone around here and she doesn’t let my little brother or sister to go outside because she doesn’t like how the other kids act around here, they are a bad influence and I agree, I feel so alone. All of my friends are in NW or in NOVA(Northern Virginia) There is no one like me out here, all of the kids my age don’t go to school and they don’t want to do anythign with there lives. I told this lady I’m going to college and she laughed and said that no one goes to college around here…And when I went to my college’s orientation in June and I told some people that I live in SE DC they were so shocked….I am so embarassed to tell people where I live…I have never lived in a place like this ever…And it’s impossible to go anywhere without a car…The buses/subway runs extra slow out here and they stop very early. it’s kinda of like Staten island, it’s isolated from the rest of the city.
I’m 18, I live there because my school is close to my house so I commute…Plus, its hard to find a good apartment because DC is getting very expensive now..Plus my mom doens’t mind me staying…
My mom wanted to get a cond/apratment because she and my dad divorced a while ago and he left us in this house….My mom doesn’t like houses because of the upkept…And she sold it and we moved to the condo….It’s a nice condo it’s brand new…it’s kinda of like a house…its has a an upstairs and a downstairs…and a patio….

Are there any jobs that accept 15yr olds in PA? Primarly around the Pittston area?

Im 15 and i want to start saving up cash for a car, insurance, etc. I need a job but it’s hard to find one with the criteria im looking for. I would want to do stock for like a supermarket or help unload the delivery trucks. Can someone please help me with this?
crap alright, but do u know of any possible jobs around Pittston PA?

What do you think of the first page of my story?

1.
I was the morning in the UAE, six thirty to be precise, and Rhys, who was not a morning person, was unhappily being dragged out of his pleasant slumber by the irritating beep of his alarms. The first lay on his bedside table, so it could be easily reached to press snooze and give him an extra five minutes and as he did this Rhys remembered that this was exactly the reason why he had set another alarm on his desk at the other side of the room and a third in his adjoining bathroom.
He stood up, cursing for his total lack of empathy toward his future self when he had set the alarms the night before, and, after stumbling to his desk and switching off the second before making his way to the bathroom for the third, Rhys promptly collapsed back onto his bed only to find himself unable to even contemplate slipping back into a sub-conscious state.
In a condition somewhere in between being asleep and being awake he pulled on his school uniform and grabbed his bag. Slowly making his way downstairs, eyes still not fully open, Rhys was almost knocked over as his little sister came bounding past singing the chorus of some tacky Disney tune, in a state far from what he believed should be legal at that time of the morning.
After getting some food Rhys felt better, good enough, even, for his first head of dokha for the day. After retiring back to his room he hung out his bedroom window which overlooked the minuscule excuse for a garden and the street beyond it breathing in the mixture of refined tobacco and Iranian leaves until his lungs couldn't hold anymore, he then breathed out in relief at his nicotine craving being satisfied and the comfortingly familiar light-headed moment when everything bad in the world clouded over.
"Rhys! We're leaving, hurry up!" shouted his mum from downstairs. Quickly recovering from the effect of the dokha Rhys sprayed some deodorant and cologne on himself, ruffled his hair, which just a bit too long for his liking, and made his way to the car.
The journey was spent in the usual silence from Rhys but loud racket from his Mum and Sister as they sung along to Leona Lewis' depressingly slow and slurry album. Rhys tried, as he did every day, to block out the noise with his iPod but failed, as he did every day, due to the cheap knock-off head phones he had bought from a dodgy dealer for a tenth of the price.
Upon arrival at the school Rhys swiftly left his family's vicinity and made his way toward the place where he knew his friends would be. Next to the school was a dilapidated three storey block of flats with a small supermarket at the bottom and behind was an alleyway leading to the other side of the block where all the students from his school went to have their nicotine fix before another two hours of abstinence.
On his way to the alleyway Rhys bumped into two girls from his year. He immediately brightened up, no longer the apathetic and moody teenager his family knew him as Rhys transformed to his true self. They all exchanged greetings and made a few stoner jokes about each other as Rhys could smell the cigarette smoke on them from a mile off.
"I thought you'd quit." Rhys teased one of the girls, Louise.
"Yeah, and I just lost 10dhs on a bet I made that you would die of simultaneous lung and liver failure over night." She retorted, jokingly.
As he was just about to walk away the second of the girls, Lydia, motioned toward the direction of the alley way, "Oh, Rhys, I think Jake said he wanted to talk to you about something and he seemed kind of worried."
Rhys was bemused. Jake, worried? It just didn't compute. Jake was the kind of guy who was up for everything and didn't give a monkey's what anyone thought about him.
As he walked to towards the alleyway Jake breathed in the heavy smell of tobacco and shisha flavour from the nearby cafe and relaxed his shoulders confident in the fact that, whatever Jake wanted to tell him, it would not burst his bubble and this would be a good day.
Rhys glanced at his watch; it read 7:30, giving him fifteen minutes before school started. He had made good time, another sign, Rhys thought, of a good day ahead.
Unfortunately, Rhys' prospects of a good day were just about to plummet.
"Hey, Rhys" Jake called walking towards him. "I need to talk to you"
Jake tried to grab Rhys' arm and pull him toward the school but Rhys resisted, seeing that Jake was worried and adamant that nothing would ruin his day.
"No, man. Wait, I want to have some dokha first."
"I need to talk to you" Jake tried to grab Rhys' arm again but Rhys stepped away, further into the alleyway, and reached into his pocket for the leather case in which he kept his pipe.
"Fine." Jake grunted, releasing Rhys from his grasp, eyes glued to an empty water bottle leaning against the wall. Seeing this sudden, submissive, change in Jake emotions Rhys sighed and returned the case to his pocket. He realised that there must be something serious going on for Jake to be acting so out of c

I'm so mad, I applied to a supermarket and called many times but no one will call me back?

I applied to a Stop & Shop supermarket and I’ve called about 4 times in the past two weeks and they wrote my name and phone number down and they’d call me to set up an interview. I even went in there once and asked them if anyone has looked at my application and I saw them write down my name and number so it’s not like they’re lying. My mom says that I’m just not trying hard enough, but I don’t want to call every single friggin hour. What should I do?!
I need a computer for school very badly, and my parents won’t pay for it so I really need a job. Also for when I take Driver’s Ed. soon, I need money for that too. And car insurance once I get my license. So you see, I really need a job.
When you first applied to a job, did you have to call back many times before you actually got an interview?! How long did you have to wait? Any feedback is appreciated, thank you
Oh and I know they’re hiring, they always are, and I know they would tell me that they’re hiring or not.
And sorry that this question is so long, haha.
Not many other places are hiring, or will hire a 15 year old.
although I will be 16 soon, but I need a job right now :[

tourists guide to the26 countys of ireland(NB this is all fictonal all countys are nice )?

Cavan: filthy, ignorant hillbillies, puritanical papists.
Hobbies: discovering IRA ammo dumps and knitting black balaclavas.

Kerry: stupid but loveable.
Hobbies: Gaelic football, scraping pig foetus off their wellies and chain-smoking.

Wicklow North: sports car driving country snobs (Greystones, Enniskerry)
Hobbies: Sticking their noses in the air and referring to themselves as “one”.

Wicklow South: sheep shaggers.
Hobbies: Sitting in field with their neighbours and talking about the”banjaxed hydraulics on the JCB”, collecting the dole.

Dublin North: criminals, drug dealers and factory workers, easy women, unmarried mothers, skinheads and all-round examples of human waste.
Hobbies: Heroin and watching serial numbers being filed off stolen BMW’s, Doing hand-breakers.

Dublin South: west Brits, snobs, rich, easy glamorous women.
Hobbies: colonic irrigation and sleeping with their best friend’s spouse.

Limerick: violent, racist scum of the earth, knife-wielding prostitutes.
Hobbies: play rugby while stabbing each other with screwdrivers and then complaining about their city’s bad reputation.

Donegal: look down on all-others, aloof.
Hobbies: Turning their noses up at all and sundry

Cork: jealous of Dubliners, highly-sexualized women.
Hobbies: Standing at the side of the Motorway and making smug faces at the cars with Dublin plates.

Tipperary: beautiful pristine girls, hard to get into bed but worth it if you can because that County does not have two different Ridings for nothing!
Hobbies: Getting a flat in Dublin and losing their accents and hoping their parents don’t find out.

Meath: Dublin wannabes.
Hobbies: Beating Dublin at GAA and hoping that one day somebody in Dublin will actually notice.

Galway: sophisticated boggers could be mistaken for a South Dubliner, sexually adventurous, cultured and wealthy. Hobbies: Teaching sex acrobatics to foreign tourists, dropping acid, paying a million pounds for a three bedroom suburban house and pretending it was a bargain.

Kildare: alcoholics.
Hobbies: Waking up in barns with a bottle on one side and hatchet-faced Biddy on the other.

Mayo: Depressing, defeatist, negative, misery-laden losers, emigrate as soon as the umbilical cord is cut.
Hobbies: Dropping a lighted cigarette on his mattress and then being burned alive in a Cricklewood boarding house so he can have his remains flown back to Knock Airport for burial.

Louth: IRA supporters, smugglers and bandits, beautiful girls (Dundalk).
Hobbies: Tearing through Cooley at 125MPH trying to stop the boxes of cheap vodka from falling out the window.

Waterford: decent honest hard-workers generally good folks.
Hobbies: Calling a strike.

Clare: fiddle-playing charming simpletons and, more recently, neo-nazis.
Hobbies: Falling into pot-holes and being never heard from ever again.

Sligo: go-getters, strong sense of free enterprise, likes to make cash.
Hobbies: get rich and b*llix to everything else.

Kilkenny: harmless innocent alcoholics.
Hobbies: Sending their only son to fashion college in Dublin and then wondering why he never brings girls home and why he is always looking in The Brown Thomas catalogue?

Carlow: who cares?
Hobbies: Move to Dublin and then best forgotten about.

Offaly: mad for playing sports and having fun, generally liked.
Hobbies: To win a pub.

Leitrim: Enigmatic reclusive weirdos.
Hobbies: Being absorbed into surrounding counties, quietly.

Longford: Gombeen men.
Hobbies: Legalizing bestiality.

Laois: the real boggers and proud of it generally held in high esteem by Dubliners.
Hobbies: Living an honest life, collecting EU development grants.

Westmeath: Mysterious boggers, cryptic.
Hobbies: Trying, unsuccessfully, to get noticed.

Wexford: selling their “home-grown” organic fruit (bought at supermarket that morning) at the side of the road in summer and ripping-off gullible Dubliners out for a drive in the country.
Hobbies: Ripping off tourists is more than enough.

Roscommon and Monaghan are missing, but sure did anyone notice

How do i get a registration sticker if i bought the car from someone who I cant find?

I saw an ad on craigslist from some guy selling a car. I met him at my local supermarket and gave him the money and got the car. He gave me the tittle for the car and he signed hte back and i did as well. My registration sticker expired 11/09 so i went to get a new one and they told me the car was not mine until I get him to print his name and put some other stuff like the odometer reading, and he also had to fill some other forms but I have no idea who this guy is…or if he even lives in my town. So how the hell would i go about getting a registration sticker for the car….right now all i have is a inspection sticker, the tittle to the car with his name and mine and car insurance for it any ideas on how i can get the registration sticker????

I don't get what this essay means, help me!?

I read an essay like this:

I envy intellectuals who ponder weighty questions like: “What is the meaning of life?” “Is God dead?” I don’t have time to explore these particular conundrums. I’m much too busy searching for answers to what keeps airplanes up, why doesn’t this month’s money last until next month’s Social Security check, and-most important-where can i park the car? 
  
Compared to this last burning issue, even the reflections of the great philosophers seem insignificant. For example, consider “What is the meaning of life?” If you can’t find a parking space, life has no meaning. You can’t raise a family, become a Broadway star, or discover a cure for cancer unless you can get out of your car. As for life after death, who knows? I’m not even convinced there’s life off the expressway. I do have a theory about God, though. I don’t think He’s dead. He’s probably just double parked somewhere.
  
I know exactly how He feels, because it often seems that my life revolves around available parking. In fact, an astrologer once told me that the sign with which I am most compatible is Free Parking. I don’t make plans to be anywhere unless I’m assured a parking space. That’s why I never went to a presidential inaugural ball, any of Liz’s or Zsa Zsa’s weddings, or any A-list bash, for that matter. Not that I’ve ever been invited, but it’s just as well, because I would have had nothing appropriate to wear to any of these events-again, because of parking problems. There’s a great little consignment shop downtown where a worn-just-once designer original costs a fraction of the price of an unimaginative dress jammed on a rack with dozens of duplicates in the department stores of the shopping mall. But though the consignment shop has cheap chic, it doesn’t have the mall’s parking. So i’ve resigned myself to spending triple my clothes budget for the privilege of going to a party and seeing clones of my dress on at least two other women and possibly one man, all of whom look prettier in it than I do.
 
Shopping for groceries is equally frustrating. I don’t go to the supermarket that has the best-quality food or the lowest prices. I shop at the one with the largest parking lot. I have similar problems when dining out with friends. Last week it was my turn to drive. I ignored their pleas to go to a favorite restaurant whose chief is a Cordon Bleu graduate and whose owner dropped out of business school the day before the lesson on profit-making. I opted instead for a local eatery where the food is inedible and the prices incredible. “Not the Pit Stop,” my friends groaned. “The cook’s a part-time mechanic. He uses motor oil in the salad, and his prime ribs taste like Goodyear rejects.” “Who cares?” said I. “They have valet parking.”
 
The same insane reasoning prompted me to attend every single Red Sox home game last season. I hate baseball, but a friend who had to be out of town all summer gave me custody of his season’s reserved parking space. How could I not take advantage of that?
  
But all the foregoing is trivial compared to the basic areas of my life that have been shaped solely by available parking. I have no doubt, for instance, that I would have given Neil Simon some stiff competition if it weren’t for the fact that there was no parking lot at a city school that offered a great playwriting course. Or, if I found that Broadway wasn’t my scene, I could have been president of a major corporation. Unfortunately, whenever I went on job interviews, instead of inquiring about salaries, 401Ks, and promotion possibilities, I asked only about reserved employee parking. Consequently, I had some great parking spaces but some lousy, dead-end jobs.
 
Not only did I blow my chances of becoming a wealthy, powerful corporate executive, I also passed up every opportunity to marry one, I refused to wed unless the ceremony included a promise by the groom to park my car until death do us part, and they all balked at that. I would have even turned down Paul Newman in his prime, unless he swore he wouldn’t give Joanne custody of the driveway and garage. (Continued)
———————————————————————————————–
Q. What does the last sentence mean?
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If Prince Charming had ever shown up with a crystal slipper large enough to fit me, I would have turned him down, too. How could I have adjusted to life in a castle? With all those surrounding moats, the closest parking is probably two acres beyond the jousting field.
————————————————————————————————-
Q. What does the last sentence mean?
 

Car was stuck on Icy road, would Insurance company consider the case as an accident?

I was driving my car (FWD) in the neighborhood for grocery shopping. It snowed 4-5 days ago and the temperature was around 30F. Ice was cleared on some major roads but many streets in the neighborhood were still covered by thin layer of ice. I drove to a supermarket less than a mile away. I was stuck in the middle of the road during the return trip to home. The car was unable to move on the ice. I must move away the car to avoid the traffic. Insurance company roadside assistance’s response was to send a tow truck 9 hours later (midnight on that day) and suggested me to find other solutions by myself. Finally a local tow company came and provided a winching service $200. The tow truck driver said I should be able to file a claim as minor accident since winching was used due to bad road condition. I received the result of claim investigation and insurance company would only pay $50 on towing reimbursement since there was no damage to the car. Do I have any option?

My mom never listens to my side of the story?

My mom always yells at me because of things I do. Mainly its attitude but I only give people attitude if they deserve it. Obviously when I give attitude, my relatives tell my mom but they only tell her the part where i give them attitude, not when they give me attitude.
Lets start off with my uncle. He is married to my aunt (my dads sister) and my uncle does absolutely nothing. he just sits on the couch and reads newspapers and watches tv. he basically ruined my aunts life because she has to do everything. she has two kids and he doesn’t take care of them. The only reason i give him attitude is because he never seems to care about his children. He has lost his 1 1/2 year old daughter at wonderland once and also mexico and his 5 year old son at niagara falls. He never learns from his mistakes and he really doesnt seem to care about my aunt either. i tried being nice to him but he always talks behind my back telling my aunt things that are considered lies (he exaggerates a lot). for example one time he was dropping my friend off at his house and he didnt know the directions. so my friend tells him that his house is at the end of the road. my uncle drives and as the road bends, he slows down a lot, my friend and i tell him again that its okay to go farther cause his house is at the end of the road. he goes home and tells my aunt that i was very rude to him and giving him a lot of attitude. it doesnt make sense. another time my aunt gave me a ride to church and i left my laptop in her car. my aunt said that she would ttake me home that night so i could get my laptop back from her car. At the end of the day when my aunt was supposed to pick me up, my uncle comes in his car, so i say “i thought my aunt was picking me up” and then he goes and tells my mom that i was very rude but he didnt tell her the whole thing how my aunt said she would be there. my mom obviously got pissed at me nd was telling me if im ever that rude that she’ll take my phone away. my uncle is a little pussy and cant ever speak for himself. One time he was picking me up from school but he didnt even tell me he would (i planned on walking home that day because i had to finish up a project). he goes and tells my mom i made him wait 30 minutes but he never told her that he didnt even try calling me.
Also my aunts cousin is always taking advantage of my aunt. He never pays for anything and everytime we go out to eat its always my mom or my aunt or my grandma that has to pay because they never offer to pay. they always try to get my aunt to pay for their shit even though they are rich. one of the most ridicoulous things they did once was that they came over to our hosue for their daughters 1st birthday. They made my aunt (8 months pregnant at the time) go to the supermarket, buy about $150 worth of food and cook it for them. and then they just come to our house, eat and leave and dont even pay my aunt back. So they have done some more stuff like that and thats why im so angry at them cause they are so stingy and they are selfish. so i am just cold to them. like they would say hi and i would say hi back but not say anything more than that. i wouldnt start up a conversation with them and i just give them one word answers. and to be honest, i am just ashamed to be related to them. so anyways they tell my mom that i was rude and she got pissed. OH YEAH and one time we went into DOLLARAMA and they were too cheap to buy a $2 balloon for their child so they told me to pay for it and i did cause i was younger at that time. they didnt even say thank you or offer to pay meback. i know it was just $2 but its the principle of the matter. so basically a lot of my family members just talk behind my back but they never tell my mom about what they did to me to make me that way

please tell me what i should do because now my mom thinks i think of myself as queen of the castle when actually its not like that.

How would you ask a coworker out?

Keep in mind that i’m only nineteen and this job is at a local supermarket to pay for car insurance. It’s nothing serious that would cause problems between us.

But anyway, how could i go about asking this guy out? It is obvious that he gets attention from other girls, but he doesn’t really realize it and he never acts conceited.

I don’t have his number (apparently he hates texting and never uses his phone anyway), but we are friends on myspace. Would it be lame to send him a message about it?

what should I buy first, clothes, or a cell phone charger?

I lost my cellphone charger, its nowhere to be found. But I also ruined some clothes because of some medicine, which bleached the backs of the shirts . So I ruined my brown, purple, and black vnecks, and those took up the majority of my plane shirts. I have a bucket of change I’m going to bring to a coinstar in the supermarket. But what would be a better buy? (oh I have been borrowing my moms cellphone charger, but my mom lost hers too, we’ve been sharing her car cellphone charger (she had a non car charger too) and I do not go out with my mom everyday so I don’t get to charge my phone everyday)

Vnecks will be brought at forever21 since they are the cheapest I can find, unless I can find good quality shirts for cheap somewhere else