Hit and Run...I know what you did Summer of 2001

You were a 40 something blonde woman with chip on your shoulder in 2001. You were living at Runaway Bay Apartments. I was a friend of the man who ran the garage where you abandoned the car after the hit and run. You told people you were rummaging in your purse for a cigarette and hit some type of plastic can thing on the side of the highway on the way back from Miami. Damages showed no paint, only that something hit the hood of the car and cracked the windshield. Was it an object that smashed the window? Or was it a person who had a name? You were too drunk and high to remember what really happened, so you casually played off the dumb bleached blonde act, as if every single day, people just run off the road into things and it's funny. You weren't aware that your phone hit redial, the phone dialed the last number called, and that party heard your nervous conversation with a friend. You already had in mind to ditch the car, and were working on a boyfriend to help you get a new car. You had no remorse for wrecking highway property, or killing a vagrant behind the alleged object you hit. How long did it take for him to die? Did he bleed to death? Was he crushed? You're a drunken piece of trash that could give a #### less. Everyone saw how nervous you were, the body language, the shifty eyes, the constant fumbling for your smokes and how desperate and quick you were to dump the car at a garage and abandon it. The car wasn't that badly damaged actually, but it scared the #### out of you didn't it? The thought that miss perfect could have ended up with a DWI and manslaughter after successfully bringing several grams of cocaine from the lone star state to your new digs. Most people come to Miami to buy drugs, you were the $%^& bragging about how you brought them IN.

So little "Miss Thang", I know what you did last Summer - few summers ago in 2001 when you were #### up out of your mind. The sloppy drunk got behind the wheel, tricked by the cocaine into thinking you were awake enough to drive. Cocaine's a funny lady that way isn't she? And you can't keep the candy from your nose, so much so that you returned to the source, because you're too paranoid of all the narcs in FL and didn't know who to buy from here. You went back to the lone star state because it's another prime drug locale and you have friends there who know your habits and can come bail you out. Having drugs Fed-exed to you in Florida was making you nervous. The maintenance people at Runaway Bay had to clean up the mess you left in the apartment, aside from a desk and some insects who inhabited your filthy pigsty there were people's financial info from your various jobs, and some other interesting items. How is it you dress for success, and live like such an animal? It looked like a tweaker lived there and moved out in a hurry. The telltale tiny ziploc bags with sticky white powdery residue, a marijuana roach, beer stains and cigarette burn on the once clean carpet. You are a pig and everyone at the complex talked about how you left the place.

Why is it K, that you are always in such a damned hurry to "Run Away" gee, is that why Runaway Bay sounded like a good place to live? Well sweet, the karma will return. People know, and if someone's dead because of you then it is amazing how you can sleep at night. Do you sleep? Or do you sit up all night trying to distract yourself from remembering what a horrible person you are. What an alcoholic dope sniffing, smoking fraud? Run away now. Run away so the Florida Highway Patrol doesn't find you. Go back to your trashy Texas town or wherever it is you losers hole up when you're running scared. Go flock with your own kind you miserable old hag. Do you think people don't know what you are under your fake business woman costume? Do you realize that you can't smell the pot on your clothing because you're so damned used to it? Perfume can't cover that stench honey, or the cigarette stink, or the #### attitude you have toward everyone.

If anyone reads this and knows the folks who lost the loved one between Miami and Lantana Summer of 2001, this fine middle aged alcoholic and drug user is possibly the one who ended an innocent life. We know. We all know...you should be ashamed little miss Thang. You'd probably wipe your ass with the obituary of the victim K, because you're a coldhearted self centered scumbag. Florida has it's share of crime and scumbags, but you're the most dangerous kind. Flash that smile K. You're already dead on the inside my dear, a fate worse than physical death. My heart goes out to the person killed and I pray for their family. I should pray for the woman who committed the hit and run, but she isn't worth it. May the person who was killed rest in peace. I hope you did not suffer long.