A Touchy Situation | Letters | Salt Lake City | Salt Lake City Weekly
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A Touchy Situation



On April 21, I was biking home from work along the same route I have used for almost five years. I came across a large silver truck parked—but not along the curb, more like 3 feet away from it. Seeing the driver in the vehicle, I slid my fingers alongside the truck. Nothing else. The light in front of me changed to red, so I stopped. The truck then raced up behind me. The male driver got out, walked up beside me and slapped me in the face, knocking my sunglasses off my bewildered face.

There were several witnesses and I immediately called the police; however the witnesses drove away and left me to deal with the police and the perpetrator, alone. I was then accused of damaging his vehicle by the driver, though you could see where my fingerprints had trailed.

With no witnesses either way, the police were happy to let bygones be bygones, and let us each go our own way. I protested that assault and touching someone’s property are not comparable crimes. I asked for the man’s information to file a civil complaint and was told they couldn’t give it to me.

I guess my worth is less than that truck.

Salt Lake City