I got out of my car, dazed amid a cloud of air bag dust and miraculously unscathed. I was wearing my seat belt and had my convertible top and windows all the way down. I otherwise would surely have ended up with a face full of glass.
The other driver -- about a block away -- also got out of their car. They took a glance at me, got back into their car and sped off. Their car had no plates.
I called 911 and Deputy Penate of the L.A. County Sheriff's Department arrived on the scene. His attitude toward me was immediately hostile.
I was in a completely traumatized state and had just experienced the scariest moment of my life. As I was on the phone trying to arrange a tow, he approached me and said: "Do you think we could hurry this up? I'd really like to have some dinner tonight."
A few minutes later as we were waiting for the tow truck, he got out of his patrol car and approached me again, making sniffing noises: "Why do I smell marijuana right now, sir? If I search your car am I'm gonna find anything I'm not supposed to find?"
I don't smoke marijuana. There was no contraband in my car, which had been laying totaled on the side of the road with its top down for an hour.
I had just been the victim of a serious crime and here was this law enforcement officer, trying to turn me into a criminal instead of assisting me in any way.
That experience was a serious blow to my faith in law enforcement.