As I drove off I noticed the paper tucked under the windscreen wiper. A note, never a good sign, I thought. Either someone wanted to give me a piece of their mind (why have you parked here?!) or they were a friend who recognized my car (Hi Charlie, fancy seeing you in these parts).
It was neither. At the red light I jumped out and took the note from the screen and gave it a quick scan. “I scratched your car while parking” it began. Oh cripes, I had not noticed. “Very sorry, please call me, etc etc”. I deciphered the surname, the same one as one of the players in my son’s cricket team. I googled the name, and found his LinkedIn page. I rang him. He was very apologetic. “I can’t imagine how it happened, I am very sorry, I’ll pay for it.” He said. It’s only a car, a small scratch, thanks for being so honest, I said.
And yes, his cousin’s son is in my son’s team.
Typical Perth, I thought. A random stranger bumps into you and you are connected by only two levels of separation. In fact, take any networking function and choose anyone in the room – you will know someone they know. It’s something I love about living here. 2 million people, but with a small town feel.