My wife managed to crash the car again today. When the police arrived, she was already fired up, pacing near the dented bumper. “That guy was totally reckless!” she said, pointing. “He was on his phone — and drinking a beer like nothing happened!”
I looked over. Sure enough, the “man” sat in the driver’s seat, phone on his lap, holding a can of beer like it was a normal afternoon.
The officer took a deep breath, clearly holding back a laugh. Then he looked at her and said calmly, “Ma’am… you hit a parked car.”
Silence.
My wife froze. I tried — really tried — not to laugh.
Then the officer added, barely keeping a straight face, “And that ‘gentleman’? That’s a cardboard cutout we use for training.”
She blinked, her face turning bright red.
“He wasn’t on his phone,” the officer continued. “And he definitely wasn’t drinking.”
My wife quietly muttered, “Well… he looked reckless.”
The officer finally smiled. “Don’t worry. Happens more often than you think.”
Let’s just say… the ride home was very, very quiet.
