Moral of the Story - What goes around comes around!

It was an interesting job. I did not really need it...someone told me "women don't do that" and it sparked me into action.

I went to a wedding of my childhood friend, Janet, and my aunt and uncle were also there. I was intrigued by the limo driver standing outside the door. He did not smell good. It was a warm, summer day and he had on clothes that smelled musty and hot. I was a school bus driver. I asked him if I could see the inside of the limo. He said sure.

My uncle and I went to check out the limousine. I had never been close to one before, let alone in one. We crawled in the back, and it was shiny, pretty with white lights, a bottle of champagne was prepared for the wedding couple with wine glasses sparkling in the white light. It was impressive.

I said to the driver. "So, how do you get to be a limousine driver?" He said, "You don't." I said, "why not?" He said, "because women don't drive limos." I was stunned. My uncle was stunned. The look on my face must have said it all to my uncle...he knew what was in store. I thanked the driver, and we went back to the wedding.

That was a Saturday, and on Monday - dressed in my jeans and bus driving clothes, I went to the place of employment of that limousine driver. There was a sign in the window, drivers needed.

I found a tall, handsome guy in the parking lot looking over a white limousine. I asked him to speak to the manager and he said, "I am the manager." I told him I wanted to apply for a job to drive a limousine. He said, "I'm sorry, you can't." I asked him why not. He repeated his answer. It took me three times to ask the same question and he finally relented and told me to come into his office. Upon a few minutes of discussion and learning of my background of driving - he took a "chance" and hired me. I began working that very next weekend.

There are so many stories of my limousine adventures. One that will always stand out is one delivery to Kennedy Airport. I had a wonderful family in my stretch limousine. It was July. It was hot, about 94 degrees. The mother was just out of the hospital after a lung operation. It was a mother, father, son, and daughter in law that was hopping a plane to Italy to visit family.

Remember the sweltering day? Well, it was nerve racking to know that my car was getting hotter and hotter, but I could not shut off my air conditioning as the mother in the back needed keeping comfortable...as were they all. The path to Kennedy was blocked...five lanes of traffic on the Grand Central Parkway was stopped in their tracks. Sitting still in the car with no movement shuts down the AC systems...poof...there blows the air conditioner in lane three of the Parkway.

Hood-up, I assessed the situation. Standing in front of my car in a tuxedo and heels, I must have looked perplexed. Many, many people stopped to offer me water for my hoses...I thanked them, but the water ran right out. Meanwhile, I was always looking for a way to get my four passengers out of my car and into a cab, with air conditioning and with a magic path to the airport so that they did not miss their flight. The family looked worried, but they were calm. I was calm on the outside...but working hard to find them safety and freedom to the airport. It so happened that the shoulder of the highway was being reserved for the yellow cabs - most of them full for the airport. I found one empty...I asked him, "please take my passengers to Italy departure to catch their flight! I have $50.00 on me; you can have it. Just get them safe!" He agreed and we loaded their luggage into the cab, escorted the passengers to the cab...and I watched them drive off.

I was alone, stranded, broken down on the largest Parkway and traffic of New York City. The traffic finally started moving, except for me. And then...I was truly alone.

I had called the New York City police during the "moving out" process. Pretty soon, two police officers on motorcycles came by. I called them CHIPS (okay...shows my age. An old show on TV - California Highway Patrol). The officers both turned their bikes off, asked me about the situation. Radioed in that I needed a tow truck, got back on their bikes and both left me alone again. Now standing like a neon sign in the middle of New York, hood up, going nowhere and clearly stating "Here, new tires, great hub caps, come and get it."

After a half hour or so, a tow truck driver came by. The minute he got out of his truck he said "Oh, they didn't tell me it was a limousine. I can't tow you; you need a flatbed truck!" I must have looked like I was about to cry. He then got in his truck on his radio...and after a few minutes came back to me "Maim, I'm going to tow you. I cannot lift the car too far off the ground...as limos will bend at the frame. So, I will be careful, we will get this thing hooked up and we can get out of here!

Whew! What a relief. He was such a nice gentleman. He hooked my car up and off we went. The trick was...we were driving against the traffic as this was the only way to hook the car up...he explained. As we drove the wrong way down Grand Central Parkway...it was like in the movies...the cars were swerving around us, horns honking. How fun was this!

The tow truck took me to a place on a fairly quiet, treelined street in front of a hardware store. He went inside. He apparently knew the owner. They both came out with hoses and clamps. "Oh," the tow truck driver said. "It must be the freeze plug. You need a freeze plug." "Okay, I said." Then he said, "I have to get back to work before I get fired." You call for another tow truck and tell them your situation and you will be fine."

It was the strangest thing. These gentlemen worked for an hour on my car and did not ask me for anything. They were sad that they could not fix it, but one went back to his work driving and the other went into his shop to close. The whole town closed up. All of a sudden, I hear gates coming down on doors and windows and then silence. I might have said aloud "I thought this was the city that never slept!!!" It was nine at night. It was dark. I am broken down somewhere in New York City with no one around.

I find a phone booth (yes, a phone booth). I called 911. "What is your emergency." With a voice held calm so as not to appear afraid...I explained where I was...luckily, I was at the corner of a street. The nasal voice at the end of the line said, "Okay Maim, we'll have someone there in 45 minutes." Well, that is when I lost it. "45 MINUTES, I am alone, I am tired, I am in the dark with a broken-down limousine. I need someone NOW! She said, "We'll be right there!"

In less than 15 minutes a tow truck comes along. He was a genuinely nice man as well. I helped him hook my car up...I was learning the trade. I asked, "I thought you weren't supposed to tow a stretch limo?" He said, "You'll be alright."

When I hopped high up in his truck and he put it in gear...he said. I can drop your car off where it can be fixed tomorrow, but I cannot get you to a hotel until the end of my shift where I will take you to LaGuardia Airport Hotel, it is the safest place for you tonight. My shift ends at 11:30. I said "Fine. Thank you so much."

Well, we dropped the car off and went about the city in a flurry of pick-ups and drop offs, each time I assisted him as best I could. I was hungry and tired. He knew it. He stopped in the middle of a NYC street and ran in a deli. He came out with a great sandwich and some fruit. He took half and gave me half and said "Here, eat this, it's my supper time." So, we ate as we drove. With me in my tuxedo and heels, and him with his radio calls all night, we hooked and unhooked cars. It was truly so much fun going so fast when emptied on a NY City street. I felt honored to be a part of the city and this man's kindness.

At 11:30 he drove me to LaGuardia Airport Hotel. He gave me a card with his name and phone number on it. He said "Now, if you get scared or have questions about anything, you call me and my wife." We will be right here; I do not live far away. He left.

The Valli came out to greet me and asked me for my luggage. I was still dressed nice but did not smell too good after 21 plus hours on the road. I handed him my two thermoses’...one for coffee, and one for water...and walked in front of him to the lobby. At the hotel desk, my boss was called, and the room was paid for. Nothing more to do but wait until morning.

In the morning, I felt an extra pang of "why not" and called for breakfast to be delivered to my room...on my boss’s bill. The tenant came in with the large round tray over his shoulder and commenced to set up my eating area with a tablecloth, coffee, wonderful ham and eggs, orange juice, and cloth napkins. I so wished I had a camera to prove this was happening. I was excited.

The tow truck guy told me to call a cab at 7 am to be taken to my car. And so, I did...or I tried. I never had called a cab from a hotel before and just did not get it done. So, I asked the concierge to do it...I imaged that this might be part of their job.

A New York City taxi pulled up shortly. I put me and my two thermoses in the back seat and a beautiful elderly man with red hair and a long red beard and a heavy Irish brogue asked me "So maim, where are you going" as he reached over and turned his timer on. I said "26th and Main street" (which was all that was given to me my Tow Truck guy. The red-haired man said "26th and Main...what?" There is one in Jamaica, one in Queens, and one in the Bronx...which one do you want?" "Hmmmm, I said. I do not really know. It is where my car is at and that is all the info I have." He reached over and turned off his timer...and then said "Maim, we are going to find your car. And when we do, we are going to get you out of this city as you are clearly NOT in your element." I thanked him and we drove out into traffic.

At the first 26th and Main he stopped the cab out front and said, "Is this it?" "No, I said. "I don't see my car.

At the second 26th and Main he stopped in the parking lot of this beaten down old greasy gas station. We could see my car in the parking lot. He let me out and wished me best wishes and a safe trip home...and off he went. No charges. Another incredible and awesome human being.

I went into the garage, being careful not to touch anything with my white shirt on. Of course, the man at the counter knew which car I belonged to with me in my tuxedo. "Maim," he said, "I have to order parts for your car. I just did, and it will take 4-5 hours to get here." I was partly relieved and partly stunned. What would I do for 4-5 hours? I had started up a conversation with the gas pump tenant. He was eastern Indian and was enthralled about my limo and my life. I began to tell him stories...where I was from. A farm, with three horses, two dogs, twenty-eight ducks, two cats, and cows next door. I said I lived on a dirt road. The tenant and another guy were star struck. "What is a "dirt" road? "You know...a road with no blacktop...no asphalt." And the minute I got that out, I realized that these gas station attendants had never been out of the city, never seen the United States and country roads. I was ready to tell them stories...and I did.

They grabbed a milk-crate out of the refrigerator and emptied it...and gave it to me to sit on. They then grabbed the one and only old, beaten-up fan and they placed it delicately in a position where it would blow on me and keep me cool in the 90-degree weather. Then they put their attention on me when there was not any gas to pump...and they were listening carefully with the thoughts of country life.

4 hours later, my car parts come in. It did not take long for the owner to put my stretch limo up on a lift (which he said he should not be doing) ...and put the freeze plug in. A few minutes later it was full of water and ready to roll.

While I was waiting for this to be done, another new acquaintance came into my life. A sweet, adorable elderly lady came into the station driving a blue 67 Chevelle Malibu, my favorite classic car! She came to get it inspected. While it was being inspected, we talked about her life. Such an incredible life to go shopping in the city. You travel to the butcher shop, then to the cheese shop. Then you go to the bakery, the corner market for fresh veggies, and maybe you stop at the florist for some fresh, colorful garden flowers. It was all so special to me...and to this woman. We bonded with our stories, and I will never forget her.

The car was done. The group escorted me and my thermoses to the car, hugged me and helped me into the driver’s seat. I almost brought the one gas attendant with me as he had brought his family to the station to listen to my stories. They lived up the street in a third floor flat...and had never been out of the city. I had an empty limo. I could have fit a husband, wife, a small son, and a baby in my car...for a new life in Pa. or upstate New York. But I did not. I did not think my husband would understand who I am bringing to dinner.

The moral of this story is...you get what you give out and as the title reflects - what goes around comes around. I was never afraid of the seven wonderful people that opened their time and their hearts to make sure I was safe and happy in their city. No one charged me for their time (except the freeze plug and labor was charged to my boss), no one ever tried to take advantage of me. I loved, loved, loved my adventure into New York City that year...and I will never forget it.