One day several years ago I experienced the afternoon starvings, so I ran into a store to get my favorite snack—a mixture of nuts and dried fruit. My friends call it my hamster food. When I came out a gentleman was waiting beside my parked, smashed-up car. He explained that he had hit my car and had called the police. He was waiting for the police officer to show up to complete an accident report. “Okay,” I said between munches.
Soon a very tall, stern, no-nonsense woman police officer showed up to fill out an accident report. She asked me to sit in her patrol car, which I did. I was still munching happily away on my nut mixture. The police officer was looking at me suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “Why aren’t you more upset about the accident?” she finally asked. “I don’t sweat the small stuff," I said, smiling between munches. At this point I was a little worried that she suspected my sanity. However, the truth was that I didn’t care that much about my car anyway. I wanted a new one. Munch, munch.