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would it? I stood and wondered if the grease in the dreadlocks would be an accelerant or a deterrent.
    “Ma’am, I am sorry for the damage to your car. Maybe we should pull over and discuss matters,” I looked at her hair with disgust, but offered a smile. I suspect I looked like a liar.
    “I have called the police,” she said. “That’s what I was doing while you were looking at your car.” She blew smoke from her grotesquely tan nose as she spoke. Her lips were wrinkled and covered in lines.
    “Police?” I uttered. “Why did you call the fucking police? This is something we can settle right here and now. I do not want to wait for the police.”
    “Well, when you are involved in a wreck, you call the police. It is required” she said, taking another unnecessary pull from what appeared to be a cigarette butt.
    Standing in front of her, I made eye contact. With my hands in my pockets, I tried to convince her, “It is not required , it is recommended,” I lied. “We can settle this right here and now, without the police, and go about our way, and everyone’s happy.” She started to interrupt, but I continued, and added a little embellishment, “You decide what the damage repairs to your car are worth, and I hand you cash. It’s that simple. You decide, plain and simple. I haven’t had my insulin shot this morning, and I need to get home as soon as possible. Truth be known, I am sure that’s why I was daydreaming. What do you think?”
    Puzzled, she looked at me and spoke, “Let me get this straight, I give you an amount, and you pay me caaaaaaaash ?” The word ‘cash’ lasted a lifetime. I waited, as she attempted to finish her sentence, for the rubber band in her throat to snap.
    “Yes ma’am, cash,” Pointing to the side of the road, I continued. “But we either need to settle this, or move to the side of the road. We are going to get hit. Again .” I was trying to encourage her to make a decision so I could leave before the police arrived.
    People had gathered, and were watching the show, asking to make sure we were not injured. She looked at the rear of her car, looked at the sides, and placed her hand on her chin. Turning to face me, she made her offer.
    “Two hundred dollars.” She raised one eyebrow, and tossed the butt in the street, stepping on it with her toe.
    Satisfied with her response, I reached deep into my left front pocket, and got the money clip out. As I turned away from her, I removed two one hundred dollar bills, making sure she couldn’t see how much money I carried. Although I did not have a huge wad of cash at this point in time, it was not uncommon for me to carry several thousand dollars in my pocket. Just in case. For what reason, I never really knew, but I just felt more secure with larger amounts of money. As I turned back to face her, I extended my arm in an offering gesture. “Ma’am, I appreciate the consideration, it is just simpler in this fashion, and we can both go our own way.” As she accepted the money, and placed it into her palm, she looked down at my canvas sneakers, and then slowly up the height of my three hundred plus pound frame.
    “You don’t have insurance, do you?” she asked over her shoulder, walking away, her hands fumbling with the two bills, counting them and recounting them as she walked. Yes lady, they’re both still there….
    “Do I look like I don’t have insurance?” I answered. Knowing I probably did not look like I had auto insurance. I continued, “Lady, I have insurance, I drive a sixty thousand dollar car, and it is insured. Let’s just get out of here, so I can get my insulin, and we can prevent yet another accident, how does that sound?”
    She continued to walk to her car, and I turned to walk to mine. As I did, I looked at my shoes. Typical fat kid attire. Canvas sneakers, with the soles worn through. I opened the door, and stuffed myself into the car. Getting in and out was a feat in itself, but once I was in, I