A Puzzler

Two women were fiercely circling a large car that was parked halfway up my street. They were on foot. Both of them were taking pictures with their phones, and not just of the outside of the car. One stood as close as she could get to the window without actually touching it, her flip phone held out to catch the interior shot.

But why?

They couldn’t be professionals, pros would use real cameras or at least smartphones. There had been no collision; both bumpers were as virginal as an (insert unpopular stereotype) in a (popular situation). I’m sure neither one lives around here, at least not on my street. And they were both very angry.

The whole scene reminded me of the caption contest on the back page of the New Yorker, except for one thing: I can usually come up with a funny-ish caption for the contests in the back of the New Yorker.

It’s now four days later and I still haven’t figured it out, and until I hit the “publish post” button, I won’t have told anybody about it either. It’s too trivial, too ridiculous. But it’s bugging me. Why would two angry women want interior shots of someone else’s car?

If you figure it out please let me know. It’s a puzzler.