The other night I responded to a hit and run collision in the parking lot at a fast food restaurant. When I arrived, I saw a man in the parking lot, who was about 35 years old. He saw the police car and flagged me down. I stopped and asked, “Did you call the police?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I was walking past the drive thru when a Jeep hit me. I ended up on the hood.”

“Did you fall to the ground?”

“No, I fell on my feet.”

“You fell on your feet? Don’t you mean you landed on your feet?”

“No. I fell on my feet.”

I had never heard that before, but I went with it. After he gave me a description of the driver and vehicle, I asked if he was injured from the collision.

“My shoulder hurts. I asked my wife to look at my face to see if one side was drooping.”

What? Was this guy injured in a crash or was he having a stroke? I should’ve asked if one of his arms was numb too.

After I got his statement, I asked him if I could see his identification. He reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. He thumbed through it and handed me his license. I looked at it and noticed his eyes were looking up and to the right. I turned the license toward him and asked, “What were you looking at when they took the picture?”

“My eyes are kind of crooked,” he replied.

Oops, I hadn’t noticed that. I wasn’t really sure where the conversation could go from there, but I tried to salvage it. That was the least I could do.

“Look at me.” I said. He turned his head as I took a quick look. “Naw. You look fine.”

He laughed at that, which was good, because I thought it was funny. Maybe I shouldn’t comment on people’s DMV photo anymore. Well, I probably will. You never know what’s going to come up.