"Drama at the Big Box" aka "That evening at Home Depot"

The Scene: Me shopping at Home Depot. Just after 5pm on a Monday.

The Players (In order of appearance):
Me
The P.A. Voice
Home Depot Girl
Blake
My black Mazda B2300 truck
The Two Youths: Tall Blonde and Short Darkie
Cart Guy
Mandy: My-ageish assistant manager
Fale: Confident and intimidating manager

Setup:
What follows is a true story. No names have been changed. I've condensed a few of the interactions for brevity.

Me: (wondering around store, gathering up items. Wishing I'd picked up a cart) Thinks "Is the 15 foot cat5 cable going to be long enough..."

The P.A. Voice: "ClickPssshhffft. Would the customer with Maryland plates please come to the customer service station? The customer with Maryland plates to the customer service station please. Clonk."

Me: (Walks to front of store) "I'm the Maryland Guy"

Home Depot Girl: "Hi, Your car was just hit in the parking lot."

Me: (Sarcastically) "Yesssss!"

Home Depot Girl: "This guy saw it." (points to Blake)

Blake: "Yeah, some kids in a white truck hit a cart going 20 or 30 mph, and it smacked into the back of your truck. It was intentional. Here is the plate number" (Hands me a slip of paper)

Me: (Outside at truck now) Thinks to himself: "Phew, the truck is not totaled. Oh look, it's just a little dent. I have tons of those already. Good, nothing to worry about. Oh, yep, there is the white truck. I wonder what I should say to the kids. We don't need any trouble. Hmmmm..."

Me: (Waits for kids to emerge from HD. Approaches the already on-guard kids, meeting them at their truck.) Says to Tall Blonde: "Hey man. Looks like you guys hit my truck with a cart, right?"

Blonde: "No. I didn't."

Me: "Are you sure about that? Do you want to take that back?"

Blonde: "No. Dude, I didn't hit any carts."

Me: "We saw you."

Blonde: "Oh, were you like sitting over there watching!?"

Me: "Yes."

Blonde: "...Ok, I did hit your truck."

Me: "So what's your plan? Were you going to tell me?"

Blonde: "It didn't even make a dent, it doesn't matter. Geez dude! (expletive)."

Me: "Well, you did make a dent. You damaged my truck, so what do you want to do about it?"

Blonde: "(expletive). Get off me man. You can't even see the dent, and your truck is beat up anyway. This is ridiculous. . You can't prove it anyway! It's your word against mine! (expletive)."

Me: "I think you're getting mad. I'm the one with the damaged truck. Why are you getting mad?"

Blonde: " (expletive). (expletive)(expletive). I'm outta here."

Me: "I think that maybe you should give me your insurance information."

Blonde: "I don't have insurance. (expletive)"

Me: "Shall I call the police then?"

Blonde: "(expletive). Go ahead (expletive)!" (Blonde and co-hort start to walk away, heading for store.)

Me: (Raising my voice as the youths retreat) "Hey man, if you'd have come clean at the start and apologized, we'd be done here. In fact, if you come back right now and stand in front of me and apologize, it'll be done. Come back, and it'll be over man." (Kids continue walking into store (assumed expletives).

Cart-guy: "I'm calling a manager"

Mandy: (Emerges looking nervous. She approaches me as the youthes re-emerge from the store, and stand next to their truck.) "Can I help you sir?"

Me: "Hi Mandy. My name is Matt. I'm not mad, but keep talking to me."

Mandy: "What a relief. So what happened."

Me: "Keep talking to me, and look worried and upset. I'm going to pretend to make a call on this phone. Those kids (Matt Relays story). Lets keep talking, and make them sweat. They won't leave because they don't have insurance, and think I'm going to call the cops. I just want them to learn a lesson."

Mandy: "Yes. Ok. I'll use my walkie talkie like we're getting the authorities. Lets keep talking."

Me: "Lets go inside, and let them stew for a while."

Me: "Okay, now lets watch from the window. Yes, they're still there. They're not going anywhere. Lets let them stand there for a while. "

Mandy: "What should we do? Lets get Fale, the manager. He can talk to them, adn shake them up a bit."

(Manager arrives, situation is conveyed, he agrees to let them worry for 10 more minutes, and then goes out to talk to them.)

Me: "Mandy, lets watch from the window. Look, they look mad. Yes, they're arguing and flailing arms. Fale is talking now. Now they look defeated. It's working."

(Kids leave, Fale comes back in)

Fale: "They were punks. But they agreed that they did hit your truck, and that they said some mean things to you, and that you were trying to be cool. They offered to come in and apologize. I told them they had better just leave"

Me: "Did they get the point?"

Fale: "Yep, they were scared stiff. They know you still have their license written down."

Me: "Great. Where do you keep the stain pens?"

Moral of the story
Don't lie and get insurance.