My parked car got side-swiped last night while I was at the announcement for the Amazon.ca First Novel award.
My own first novel wasn't even nominated for the award, so the dinging seems a little gratuitous. Some people really hate literature. If I find the guy who did it, I'm getting Yann Martel to start sending him used books – that'll show him not to piss off a writer.
I had to go to a Collision Reporting Centre out at Islington this morning. Here's a dramatic re-enactment of that visit:
No no no, they were very friendly and helpful. And the best part is that someone witnessed the side-swiping, got the offending license plate #, and left me a note, offering to appear as a witness. Even the cops said the note-leaver was a saint.
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