We spent last weekend in Key West, to ring in the New Year in my favorite place on the planet. I have written before about how this funky, lovely little Island town has somehow captured my heart with its many fine attributes.
One of the things that I find attractive about Key West is the people. Well, rather the locals. Due to my many sojourns and my mutual interests with the folks that call Key West home, I have made some friends. And it was a friend who graciously and generously sponsored our trip during a holiday weekend, which otherwise we could not have well afforded.
This trip, we drove my efficient, sleek, pretty, brand-spanking-new Prius, Daisy down there. Even though I had only purchased her a month and a half previously, I just knew it was her destiny to make many trips to the Southernmost tip. I was excited to ‘stretch her legs’ and count the mile markers down US1 to the final destination for the first time with her.
Once there, we parked Daisy in front of our host’s lovely little Conch home in the private parallel parking in front. (As seen in the pic above) She sat there for the duration of the trip, unmoving and soaking up the warm subtropical sun as Donnie and I always rent a scooter to get around when we are down there.
Scooters, bikes or your own two legs are definitely the preferred modes of transportation in Key West. The streets are Lilliputian in size and the other auto drivers on the road are mostly either taxis (fast and careless) or tourists (drunk and clueless.)
Donnie and I just love to spend entire afternoons just scootering around and reacquainting ourselves with the Island…stopping off at the Bookstores (the Used Book one or Voltaire’s), naming off now familiar sights and most particularly, looking at the architecture and Real Estate.
We have been talking more and more about the re-adjusted dream of not selling our listed townhome in Delray and moving locally, but instead just staying put and instead investing in some sort of Real Estate in Key West. Ideally it would be an income property, a project and a vacation destination. Then it would be a future retirement, a family reunion spot and finally it would be a legacy for our daughter and future generations. (Lofty, I know – but aren’t most dreams?)
We happened upon a very special property during our outing on New Year’s Day and in a fit of pique and optimism, I contacted the listing agent to make an appointment for the following morning to see it before we left town.
We arrived a few minutes prior to the agreed upon time of 10:00 AM the next morning. While waiting under the trees and gazing at our fantasy home, my phone rang. I looked at the incoming call…it was our host.
Our host is a wonderful, creative man. He is a local author, an entrepreneur and is deliciously enigmatic and charismatic. He is also a dichotomy of outgoing and introspective. When I first met him, I was enchanted. Our friendship blossomed quickly and as I said before, it was only because of his good will that we were even staying in Key West.
Hearing his voice on the phone while we stood and waited for the Realtor is not what unnerved me…it was WHAT he said. “There is a very nice man here, who knocked on the door. He said he hit your car.”
I was in a state of disbelief, and for a moment, knowing that our host is a prankster, started looking around for a hidden camera.
MY CAR WAS HIT? I quickly realized our host wasn’t joking, asked him to please accept the information being offered from the person claiming to have dented my Daisy.
We did tour the property, which is very promising and then raced back to our host’s home. Daisy still sat sweetly in the sun, waiting for us. Our host was not around, but the information left by the driver who hit the car was left prominently on our host’s desk.
After returning home, I did call the number left on the ragged half an envelope while regarding the copied Auto Insurance card suspiciously. I needn’t have worried. The “Hitter” (which would make me, or Daisy, the “Hittee”) couldn’t have been nicer or more solicitous. He was deeply sorry and promised to do anything to help with the repairs. Upon calling the Hitter’s home (out of state – he had been on his last day of vacation) Insurance Company, I received similar treatment. They assured me of their intent to honor the minor claim and gushed about how long the “Hitter’s” family had been their client and how nice all of them were. All I could do was agree.
And truly, I am grateful. Key West is a paradise, but it is also very transient. My new car was hit by a spiritual young man who carried not only good insurance…but, something rarer nowadays…a conscience.
Daisy is scheduled to have her cosmetic surgery Monday afternoon. The damage was minor and I know she will look as good as new.
But just like Paul Harvey…there is a “rest of the story.”
This very evening, I was sitting outside of a popular Mexican restaurant in the posh downtown Boca area known as Mizner Park. Several girlfriends and I were celebrating the birthday of one of our own.
While sitting there, munching on chips and sipping Margaritas, we all heard an awful CRUNK noise. We all turned our heads to see a car pull away after hitting another one, right in front of us. I leapt up from the table and chased after the offending car, copying down the make, model, color and license plate. We called security and all they did was stick a note under the windshield wiper of the little black convertible VW bug that now had a sagging front bumper. I did add my name and number and hope that they contact me so that I can provide the details that I have of the “spineless twit” who left the scene.
I have come full circle; I went from a plaintiff to a witness in just a few days.
Our lives are indeed, at times, shaped by those that we meet along the way.
“Hitter,” I apologize for your moniker in this blog as you deserve a much better one. However, I wasn’t creative enough to think up a better one. I thank you for having moral fortitude to knock on a stranger’s door and admit to a mishap. Let it be known, I am a kindred spirit. And I am truly grateful.
“Spineless Twit,” I make no apologies. You hit someone else’s property, caused financial and property damage and fled the scene of your crime. I have done the best that I could to identify you.
“Host,” I am proud to call you a friend. You are indeed an enigma…but that is part of your charm.
