William A. Blanc, or the Swiss Spirit

It probably happened to you. What I know for sure is that it happened to me. Going to work one morning (so, has this ever happened to you? no joke, wait and see). And when I'm just about to get in my car, I realize that my rear-view mirror is broken. Well, not really broken, the plastic cover around the mirror was simply displaced, and - surprisingly - I even knew how to repair it. Which I did in a couple of minutes. After blaspheming a little while for the fun of it, and because I thought this was the kind of thing people do when they realize that somebody has crashed their rear-view mirror without letting any message, I get in my car, go to work, and completely forgot about this very minor fact of (my) life, I admit. Which definitely happened to you as well.

Act II took place roughly a couple of weeks later. Location: my building. More precisely my mailbox. A small envelope. My name, my address, no doubt it's for me. And it's handwritten. Weird. I open it and here's the letter I found:

Dear Sir,

while trying to avoid a scooter, my rear-view left mirror hit the right one of VW Polo 626995. After a lot effort, I managed to get your name. My insurance [...] will compensate and should contact you soon [...] I'm sorry about this unfortunate incident which happened twice to me, each time without hearing anything from the culprit!

Best regards,
William A. Blanc
GE20539

Now, honestly, has this ever happened to you? I doubt it. Because William A. Blanc is - unfortunately - a rare animal. Who managed to get my name from my plate number, who sent me the letter above, and who contacted right away his insurance for me to be reimbursed (which I won't since there wasn't much to repair). And for your information, in case you're being too cynical or skeptical, I indeed received in the meantime the notification from his insurance. Why the hell did he do all this? Probably he didn't ask himself that question. It was simply natural. But William, let's face it, it's everything but natural. In the sense that 99.9% of the population would have vanished without track. You know the saying: leave no evidence behind.

It's usually fun to laugh at Swiss. I do it myself every now and then. Their strictness or inflexibility can sometimes be a real pain. But the thing I really like with those people is their honesty. Of course it's a cliché. Of course it's probably not so true. But definitely, I have enough examples which make me think that Swiss people are, intrinsically, honest. Last example was not later than this afternoon, when friends at CERN told me about the existence of a bakery near Lausanne without any seller: go there, take your bread and leave a coin. And if you don't have money with you, no big deal, let your name on a piece of paper and you'll pay twice next time you come! I let you imagine that very bakery in France, or in almost any other country...

I just wanted to thank you, Bill, for having hurt my rear-window mirror and all that. It's good to know that there are some people like you. And you fellow reader, if you happen to hit a mirror some day, thanks for letting your phone number. Who knows, that could be the car of my Swiss friend, William A. Blanc.