It was maybe 12 years ago. I was driving home from the Prodigy gym in Artarmon. Just thinking back, that seems SO long ago.
I was second in the right turn lane from Pennant Hills Road, the Pennant Hills pub on the corner. Less than a kilometer from home. There is someone in front of me in a ute (a utility, like a pickup truck, for any non-Aussies reading this). The ute starts slowly rolling back towards my car. I sound the horn, flash my high beam. The car rolls slowly back into mine; there is a mild collision. Not so mild that the ute driver would not have noticed. I am about to get out of my car to talk to the driver when the green arrow lights up, and the ute takes the corner.
The law requires drivers to stop and exchange details after any collision. I follow the ute down The Crescent, then left into Britannia Avenue, left again into Cecil Avenue and through the dogleg into Harold Avenue, left again into George Street, and left again into Pennant Hills Road, going the other way to where I was sitting at the lights about a minute ago. The guy seemed to have no intention of stopping until he pulled into the petrol station there, one I frequent as it is so close to home. The driver, probably in his fifties, gets out of his car, presumably to fill the tank, apparently oblivious to my presence.
I stop behind him, get out and and say something like, “Do you realise you rolled back into me at the lights back there? And that you’re supposed to stop after a collision?”
I then realise I am dressed in a black rashguard, gi pants, and am barefoot. With my shaved head, sweat, and indignant demeanour I realise I look like a total martial arts psycho.
I check the front of my car. He had a tow bar on the back, but it only dented my number plate slightly. No significant damage.
He looked genuinely surprised, but didn’t deny it either. He asked me, “Well, what are you going to do about it?”
I replied, “Nothing. But you need to be more attentive and careful on the road!” Which I thought was rather polite under the circumstances.
The guy didn’t apologise. I have to wonder WTF he was thinking.
I got in my car and drove home. It felt weird confronting someone in a street situation while dressed for martial arts. It could have got a lot weirder as a result, though it didn’t.
I resolved then to always change into regular clothes before driving home from the academy, and have kept to that since.