So there we are . . . in the parking lot of Pappadeaux . . . last Friday night . . .
She inched forward . . .
I again say, "I am not moving. I am holding this spot for my husband. He is right there" and I point to his car.
She inches forward . . .
I resort to the standard, I'm ignoring you move . . . I pick up my cell and start looking for something to do on it. Do I play Angry Birds, no the situation doesn't call for an Angry Birds. Do I text him - telling him to hurry his ass up? No, he is two cars away.
She inches forward . . .
Looking right in her eyes I tell her "I am not moving!" I am not sure what part of me saying it three times does 1 - clue her into the fact . . . I am not moving or 2 - clue me into the fact she is still coming at me.
I go back to looking at my phone. What to do . . . WHAT TO DO? ? ?
All of the sudden, while looking down at my phone, there is a Black Mercedes SUV on me. Now that I am able to think clearly about it . . . she probably just removed her foot from the break and the car rolled forward. No matter if she gassed it or removing her foot from the break - she hits me with her car. I am pushed back a few steps.
I look up at her and say "You just hit me with your car", in a probably not so quiet, noticeably loud voice. She nods.
I look at the car stuck between her and my husband's car. I look at all four of those passengers in that small suv and said "Did you see that? She hit me with her car." They nod.
Meeting her gaze again I say to her, "You just hit me with your car. I have witnesses that you just hit me. They saw it" pointing to the car to my left, "The State Official right there saw it" referring to the State Official who was STILL getting everyone out of his car and "My girlfriend who is a Prosecutor saw it" referring to my friend Lisa, who IS a prosecutor for Collin County.
She shrugs her shoulders. She gives me one more tap.
Looking directly into her eyes I say "I am calling the Police." I look away and start dialing 911. They answer, "911 Emergency, what is your emergency?"
I say I was just hit by a woman in a black SUV. The 911 operator asked me to repeat my self. I tell her again. I say "I was standing in a parking spot and a woman in a black Mercedes SUV just hit me with her car three times."
She asked "Do you need medical attention?"
I explained what happened. I tell her my witnesses. I tell her the license plate number.
I said "She assaulted me with a deadly weapon."
At some point the woman reverses her car and moves to the side. By this time my husband was parked. I ask him "Did you see that? She hit me with her car." He wants to know if I am ok.
I am fine - I get it now. Adrenaline can numb you to all that is going on.
I finish my call with 911 and she tells me they are sending the police out. It was about that time I get a text from my teacher friend saying they were seated at the table.
My husband and friend, Lisa, the Prosecutor, are over talking with the lady. I know myself well enough to know I will do no good going over to talk to her.
The police are on their way . . . The woman has pulled over to the side . . . My husband and friend have all her information . . .
I tell them I am going inside to the table. I am a little outside my skin, feeling a little disheveled. I pace back and forth and go in with Lisa's husband, who was also a prosecutor and now an attorney who specialized in criminal and family matters.
I tell the hostess, "I was just hit by a car in your parking lot . . . If the police come will you show them to my table?" As if this is an everyday thing you say to someone. Show them to my table . . . sure Ma'am, I will send the police right over.
It is far from being over . . .