LC Neal posted a hilarious story today about her recent morning commute. Among other colorful persons and things, the account involves a Maserati.
As so often happens when I’m reading posts here, I was reminded of something in my own life. This time it was my own encounter with a truckload of Italian sports cars.
In 2005 I demonstrated my notorious inability to forecast much of anything, much less The Great Depression of 2007-Eternity. I went out and ordered a new car to replace my 1993 Mazda 929. Although it had a mere 65,000 miles on it, the car was only worth $1500 as a trade in.
Since my son, who lives in Los Angeles, had always loved driving that car when he lived at home; and since he was still a struggling and dirt-poor actor who had managed to lose his car to the repo man, I offered to give him the Mazda if he could find a way to get it from Atlanta to LA.
The Actor may not have “made it” yet, but he was nothing if not well-connected. The man knows everybody. When I visited him to be his honorary date on the red carpet for the premiere of the first movie in which he had a role, he was able to march me ahead of a block-long line of patrons at the iconic Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles, give the bouncer guy a Hollywood hug and get a table, just like that! This, from a man who has no car.
Anyway, The Actor was beyond thrilled to have the offer of wheels and promptly got to work figuring out how to get it there. About four hours after that conversation, he called back and said he had found a “hook-up.” That’s his way of saying he knows a man, who knows a man, who owes a man, etc. There would be a truck coming to my house on the following Tuesday afternoon to pick up the car for “only” $1200.
“What the hell kind of hook-up is that?!?” I crowed, stunned. Call me stupid, but I thought a hook-up was a situation where something was gotten for nothing much more than a you-owe-me-one.
“Mom, the regular price to ship a car would be at least twice that much. He’s giving you a big break.
”
“Giving ME a break! What’s this have to do with me????”
“Well, you know I don’t have $12, much less $1200. I thought you could lend it to me until I get a check.”
“Ah, the same check that you are waiting for to pay me the $2500 I sent last month, and the $500 I sent the month before, and the $1000 I sent…”
“I know, Mom, I know. But things are going to happen soon. I feel it. All I need is one good break and we’ll be set.”
“We? We’ll be set?”
“Now, Mom, haven’t I always told you we were a partnership? You and me against the world, right?”
Sigh.
Anyway, the truck driver called at the appointed hour on Tuesday and said he was sitting a block away on the major cross street because his truck was too large to drive into my street. Would I mind driving the Mazda around and pulling it up to the loading ramp?
When I stepped out of the car and handed the driver the keys, I was standing beside the longest 18-wheeler I had ever seen in my life. The driver, clipboard in hand, began to inspect the Mazda and make notes about body damage.
I laughed. “Sir, that car is 13 years old. You don’t have enough paper on that clipboard to write down every scratch and dent you’ll find on that thing.”
“Ma’am, there are $2 million dollars worth of automobiles on that truck. I am required to make a thorough inventory of every vehicle.”
My laughter changed to howling. I walked up the wheel ramps to take a closer look. Two Lamborghinis and two Maseratis were tethered to the sides of the trailer, just sitting there in all their splendor.
“Well, sir, now you have $2,001,500 worth of automobiles on your truck. I hope these beauties don’t catch anything from my Mazda!”
Nothing but first class for my kid!
As so often happens when I’m reading posts here, I was reminded of something in my own life. This time it was my own encounter with a truckload of Italian sports cars.
In 2005 I demonstrated my notorious inability to forecast much of anything, much less The Great Depression of 2007-Eternity. I went out and ordered a new car to replace my 1993 Mazda 929. Although it had a mere 65,000 miles on it, the car was only worth $1500 as a trade in.
Since my son, who lives in Los Angeles, had always loved driving that car when he lived at home; and since he was still a struggling and dirt-poor actor who had managed to lose his car to the repo man, I offered to give him the Mazda if he could find a way to get it from Atlanta to LA.The Actor may not have “made it” yet, but he was nothing if not well-connected. The man knows everybody. When I visited him to be his honorary date on the red carpet for the premiere of the first movie in which he had a role, he was able to march me ahead of a block-long line of patrons at the iconic Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles, give the bouncer guy a Hollywood hug and get a table, just like that! This, from a man who has no car.
Anyway, The Actor was beyond thrilled to have the offer of wheels and promptly got to work figuring out how to get it there. About four hours after that conversation, he called back and said he had found a “hook-up.” That’s his way of saying he knows a man, who knows a man, who owes a man, etc. There would be a truck coming to my house on the following Tuesday afternoon to pick up the car for “only” $1200.
“What the hell kind of hook-up is that?!?” I crowed, stunned. Call me stupid, but I thought a hook-up was a situation where something was gotten for nothing much more than a you-owe-me-one.
“Mom, the regular price to ship a car would be at least twice that much. He’s giving you a big break.
”
“Giving ME a break! What’s this have to do with me????”
“Well, you know I don’t have $12, much less $1200. I thought you could lend it to me until I get a check.”
“Ah, the same check that you are waiting for to pay me the $2500 I sent last month, and the $500 I sent the month before, and the $1000 I sent…”
“I know, Mom, I know. But things are going to happen soon. I feel it. All I need is one good break and we’ll be set.”
“We? We’ll be set?”
“Now, Mom, haven’t I always told you we were a partnership? You and me against the world, right?”
Sigh.
Anyway, the truck driver called at the appointed hour on Tuesday and said he was sitting a block away on the major cross street because his truck was too large to drive into my street. Would I mind driving the Mazda around and pulling it up to the loading ramp?
When I stepped out of the car and handed the driver the keys, I was standing beside the longest 18-wheeler I had ever seen in my life. The driver, clipboard in hand, began to inspect the Mazda and make notes about body damage.
I laughed. “Sir, that car is 13 years old. You don’t have enough paper on that clipboard to write down every scratch and dent you’ll find on that thing.”
“Ma’am, there are $2 million dollars worth of automobiles on that truck. I am required to make a thorough inventory of every vehicle.”
My laughter changed to howling. I walked up the wheel ramps to take a closer look. Two Lamborghinis and two Maseratis were tethered to the sides of the trailer, just sitting there in all their splendor.
“Well, sir, now you have $2,001,500 worth of automobiles on your truck. I hope these beauties don’t catch anything from my Mazda!”
Nothing but first class for my kid!
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