This has all been resolved, and I didn't want to talk about it just yet, but here goes; I work on a US Army base. Last month, I was walking out to the parking lot after work to go home. I was backed into the parking space, and there was a guy who pulled up to the right of me, so his driver side door was facing my driver side door. I'm walking past the chain-link fence that separates the parking lot from the compound, and as I'm doing so, I see the driver (let's call him John, to protect the honorless) bent over looking closely at the edge of his door. He then looks over at my door, and goes back to looking at the edge of his door, and runs his hand down the edge. I was the last to leave, so it was just our cars in the lot. I began to get an uneasy feeling, watching him examine both our doors. He sees me coming, and straightens up and begins walking away to the office, where his wife works. He was picking her up. I approach my car, and sure enough, there's this big 12-inch dent and scraped up paint on my door, that wasn't there that morning. I called to the guy "Hey, John! What happened here??" He said "What are you talking about?" Me: "Did you hit my door? This dent wasn't here earlier." Him: "No, I don't know what you're talking about." Me: "Well, no one was parked next to me, except you. Are you sure?" Him: "Yeah, I'm sure. I just pulled up right now, picking up my wife, I pulled in straight, and didn't hit nothin'." At this point he nearly had me, because I was looking at the way he parked and he was straight in. He couldn't have possibly side-swiped me. Then it hit me: Me: "Open your door." He comes over and opens his door less than halfway. I took it and opened it THE REST OF THE WAY, and sure enough, the edge of his door fit into the dent like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Me: "You hit my door! Look at that!" Him: "No, I didn't. It must have been someone else." Me: Look at it! Fits just right, and what's more, there's white paint on the edge of your door!" (My car is white) Him: "Well, I must have hit someone else's white car." Me: (getting pissed) "Well why were you bent over looking at both of our doors when I came out here??" Him: "Oh, I was just, uh, stretching out my knee." He then proceeds to do this bogus stretching exercise in front of me. I couldn't believe it. I'm standing there watching this caught red-handed guy trying to BS his way out of his mistake. We argued about it for a bit more, then he finally throws up his hands and says "OK! Here's my insurance card." I took his card, and read the back of it. The first thing it said was to notify the police, so that's what I did. One of the base MP's came over and looked at our vehicles, he opened the door and saw how perfectly it fit into the dent, took a couple of pictures of it, then took me into his vehicle and I gave him a statement. The cop said to me "It's pretty clear as day what happened here. I don't know why he's denying it, but this is why we do these reports." We finished the statement and I drove home. On the way, I called my insurance company and told them about the accident, gave them the report number, the name of John's company, etc. Now, here's where it gets interesting. I only have liability coverage on my car, so my company wasn't going to do squat. I figured that my company was going to get in touch with HIS company and sort it out. Well, a week went by and I didn't hear anything from either of them. On a hunch, I called John's company and told the guy what happened. The agent said "Well (harumph) I spoke with John, and he said he didn't do it, and being that he is my customer, I have to side with him. BUT... if you have pictures of the damage, or a police report, then we can do business." Me: "I'll call you in about an hour." I left work early to go to the MP building and got a copy of the report, and faxed it over to the guy. In the report, the responding officer plainly put John at fault, and said, and I quote: "The door matched precisely with the point of impact, and was consistent with the type of damage. There was also white paint on the edge of the door from the scrape." The agent got this report, and said "Ok, now we can do business. So, where would you like to get it fixed?" Took it to a body shop, gave them the insurance info, and got it fixed. They also rented me a car for three days to get to work and back. Know what really pisses me off about this whole thing, even more than the accident itself? John is retired military. 20 years in the Navy, and he apparently didn't learn a g'damn thing about integrity, honesty, or owning up to your own mistakes. Guys like him are supposed to set the example for young whippersnappers like me to look up to, and he's the complete opposite: he embodies everything I despise. Sorry this is so long, but I didn't want to miss anything.