In the parking lot at the station, I found a spot but it was a little bit tight. As I turned in, I was really cautious because I kind of felt like I was driving a little too close to this low red car on the right side of the space. I didn’t hear any metal-on-metal scraping, so I knew that all was well. That’s one of the things I remembered from a random episode of Canada’s Worst Driver: if you ever hear metal-on-metal scraping, STOP!

When I got out, I just wanted to take a look at the red car to satisfy my mind. I knew I didn’t hit it, but part of me was just screaming out “what if, yo?” So I ventured over to the front expecting to see nothing, but holy shit, there was this big scrape along the front bumper. I froze and cursed a bit. After a mild bit of panic, I smartened up and took a look at my car to see if I caused the scrape. I looked closely and saw nothing. I walked to the other side and didn’t see any reason for alarm either. I went back around to the front of the other car knowing full well that it wasn’t me. However, I had to check around my car just one more time. After one more round I was satisfied and started walking to the station. After about 20 steps though I stopped and turned back around to head back.

Oh man. Such neurosis. I ended up driving to the other side of the lot to find a new spot. I didn’t want to take any chance that I would somehow be associated with that scrape. Who knows if the owner of that car was aware of the scrape at all?

Yeesh. I need to find better ways to channel my obsessive quirks.