I turned around to talk to passenger. It was then that two of New York's Finest came by. The usual documents were exchanged and slips of paper issued. The cabby changed his flat and went on his way, without the least bit of concern for the puddle of oil left behind, while I waited 45 minutes for a tow truck that dragged my car to a body shop where they declared my baby, dead. Engine's been slaughtered.
Axle is busted.
Those corner panels are arthritic. I'd say an easy 3,000 smackers. I didn't have collision. The rates in Brooklyn for full coverage on an automobile are designed for doctors, lawyers, used car salesmen, and politicians. So I took the bus to work the next day and then the real crime began.