Hit-and-slowly inch away

I was jolted awake this morning at 5:30 to the sound of screeching brakes, crumpling metal, and deflating tires. I sprang out of bed, fingers crossed that my car was not on the receiving end of that cacophony of destruction.

Huge sigh of relief, my car wasn't hit. But the two cars parked in front of mine were and the perp--as in perpetrating vehicle--was fleeing the scene, albeit rather slowly as his passenger tire was flattening by the millisecond.

Watching the scene transpire in slow-motion, I tried to wake myself up fully and think about what I should do.

Of all of the voices of morality in my life (parents, teachers, nuns, priests, Charles Barkley), one rang out above the crowd and nudged me, in my head, to call 9-1-1. Yeah, that one? Mm-hm, it was the Liberty Mutual insurance ad announcer person. For a minute, I weighed my options of calling or not calling and what ultimately made me reach for my phone was the replay of a commercial in my mind where the voice states, "every day, millions of people choose to do the right thing."

So a freaking insurance company ad campaign held my feet to the fire; I did the right thing. And because of that, they found the driver, and because of that the owners of the two cars may have some insurance relief (ooh... insurance! Holy cow! It just came full-circle right before my very eyes. Put a fork in me, I'm done).