Don't you just love that "I didn't see it" excuse?
A woman knocked my motorcycle off its side-stand in a parking lot a couple of years ago, same excuse. How she missed an object with more reflective surfaces on it than your average bathroom mirror on a clear & sunny day I have no idea.
Exchanged names & numbers, but the business card which her husband gave me was a dead end. From now on it's licence plate #s and/or driver's licence. Although I did get some satisfaction from the intimidation factor which seems to accompany bikers--her kid was bawling her eyes out in the back seat, terrified that I was going to hurt her mommy.
Maybe one of these days the licencing offices will add IQ tests to driver's licence requirements, and require a B licence for anything taller than a Crown Vic. We can hope.