1 min read
Last night I heard a part-hilarious, part-terrifying story that I had, up until now, only thought possible in the movies.
While driving home my female friend was, basically, crashed into by a male driver intent on stopping her one way or another in order to get her phone number.
Almost unbelievable I know, but true.
Perhaps more ridiculous, this was in Hendon. Not the Bronx, not Compton, Hendon.
Thankfully she was ok, although her car was, unsurprisingly, sporting a little damage this morning.
In the end she got his number, but only for insurance purposes, naturally.
Whether or not she took the collision as a compliment is as yet unknown.
It might not do much for your paintwork, but it's surely quite some ego boost...
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