You may remember my post about my frustrating experience of having to re-park the car with Pookie. Well, today could have turned out even more exasperating than that day, but it didn’t thanks to the kindness of New Yorkers.
We have had some issues with our 1998 Chrysler lately. Actually, I need to give the car a little more credit. The problems surprisingly have little to do with the age of the car and everything to do with the fact that we left a light on in the car, which drained the battery. Because we have put off actually taking the car to the shop, every time we have to move the car (roughly twice a week), we have to count on the kindness of strangers to jumpstart our car – because the meter maids (I know – not PC at all) don’t care if your car is on fire. They will still ticket you. Or will they…?
So, today I had to move the car at 8am, and I had no babysitter, so Pookie came along. I packed up his breakfast, and we headed to the car. I thought maybe the car will miraculously start. But that was wishful thinking. I parked Pookie on the sidewalk, got out the jumper cables, opened the hood and put on my most desperate expression. After five minutes, here is what happened.
I saw a meter maid, actually a meter dude, placing tickets on the windshields of cars that no one had moved yet. He clearly had figured out my situation and did not give me a ticket, which is normal since they don’t ticket you if you are present. But then I thought why not ask him for advice. Given that he had already passed, perhaps I wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of getting the car jumped and moving it after all. He had a great idea. He said he would put a fake ticket on my windshield so that no other parking enforcement officer (I found the proper PC title for these folks) would give me a ticket.
Just as I was thanking him profusely, a car pulled up next to mine. Voilà, more ultra friendly and helpful New Yorkers. They told me that they had seen me standing there with a baby and jumper cables and had driven around the block to come back and help us out with a jump. I thanked them profusely as well and told them that I fortunately didn’t have to move the car after all thanks to the loveliest parking enforcement officer ever.
So, instead of having to get the car jumped, move the car and have breakfast in the backseat until we could get out of the car, I got to head to Starbucks (Shhh… don’t tell anyone) with an already cranky Pookie, and we had breakfast there. Not only was it much more pleasant for both of us (I got to have an Iced Reserve Hazelnut Bianco Latte!), but I also got the warm and fuzzies thinking about just how nice New Yorkers really are.