Now I only want to mention one thing: That it's definitely not my week.
I drove to my parents today. After the usual 400 km of motorway, this time in the dark and rain, I had just stopped in front of the station to explain my passenger which trains she could use and when they were leaving, when some guy decided to back his car into mine.
This time I got his address, and even though I didn't call the police, I have at least one witness and the guy seemed reasonable enough and claimed his insurance should cover it.
Still, I could have lived with my new car probably needing two new doors.