09/09/2022
Coming home from a wedding late last night, we had a blowout flat tire. This is the second flat tire in two weeks for my husband’s car.
The first one happened early in the morning when he was coming back from dropping off my grandson at YU. As my husband commented upon seeing the newest flat, now we will have matching new tires for our three month old new car.
The whole night was off kilter. It started with rushing to leave after the first days of school exhaustion. I’m not sure that anyone is ever “in the mood” to go to a wedding after a long day at work.
What seems like a great idea when you get the invitation, on the night of the event suddenly becomes a case of “what was I thinking?”
Still, when you put on your game face, less makeup the older you get, slip into your pretty glad that it fits dress or suit, flat shoes(no more heels for me) and set out, you are excited to go.
The family members hosting the wedding are lifelong friends marrying off a first grandson.The grandfather and I met when I was 12; we slowly expanded our friendship to include more friends, spouses, children and grandchildren. That entire circle of lifelong friends would be there to celebrate the union.
For me, the Kallah coming from Livingston, New Jersey, my former school, expanded exponentially the number of people that I would know at this simcha.
Sometimes when our worlds collide it is very overwhelming at this wedding, there were many many friends and former colleagues to greet and catch up with. It was a lot.
By the time we got to our table, there were no vacant seats left for us. We stood helpless as to what to do. Our friends, seeing our predicament, offered to move over and make room; they said that that they did not mind being a bit squishy.
The maitre de came over to help. He begins by questioning each member at the table and demanding to see their place cards. I already knew who the couple without a card would be, very dear and beloved friends of ours. When Bob and I walked in late to the wedding, the grandmother, all distraught, had told me that there had been confusion with this friend’s response and that they had no seat.
The wedding hosts told them to just sit at the table that had all of our friends and that it would be okay. That’s the table that now had no room for us.
It should have been okay for us to squeeze in except that when we asked for two chairs and settings, the maitre de refused to donso. His plan was to place two settings at a random table nearby.
The maitre de also shared a few choice words with me,”lady, he said, I’m very good at my job,” using a very deprecating tone.
At this point, I just wanted to go home. I was done.
Our table of friends took matters into their own hands. They waited for the maitre de to go away and brought the settings to their table and made room for us to sit and partake.
There was room at their table.
The wedding was spectacular; Mazal tov to an amazing family.
Tired, we left before the last dance, our usual practice. I guess the table drama had taken its toll.
10 minutes out, loud bang, flat tire! We were not happy.
Bob immediately understood what that bang meant; he slowly steered the now hobbled car into a nearby gas station. Of course, there was no one to help in this brightly lit and well appointed Gas Station with food, drinks and lotto tickets for car help?
Bob called AAA roadside service. We waited and waited and waited. A black car pulled up next to us and out popped Mordechai Shapiro, the famous lead singer of the wedding band, close friend and family member. He had come to buy himself some snacks and a drink after the wedding and noticed our distress.
He suggested we call Chaverim, a group of volunteers that help people in our predicament. I had heard of them but never used or needed them.
I do now!
After waiting more than an hour, we called AAA only to be told that they still could not find anyone to come and assist us; it could be up to another 90 minutes of wait time. So much for quick relief.
Apparently, it was a very busy night of car problems.
On the phone, texting with friends and colleagues, many offered to come get us. But, what do I do about the car?
I called Chaverim: 7183371800; within minutes, less than 10, the “help” was fixing our car. It took him less than 5 minutes to switch the tires; he refused to take a tip and left us with these parting words. “Don’t drive more than 50 miles an hour” and “We take care of each other.”
We were finally on our way!
Over the years, when things have not gone my way or I have been driven to the edges of frustration, my reaction would have spiraled between tears and rage. Nothing would have made me feel better than putting that smug maitre de in his place. I certainly know how.
AAA, how many years of lifetime dues have I paid to need your perhaps 4 times and two of those times you either could not find me or I had to wait hours because you could either not find me or never came?
Instead, I choose to feel good that our friends made room at the table for us at a magnificent wedding and that Hashem sent us Mordechai as the shaliach for Chaverim.
Our nation there are no others like you; “Mi komcha am yisroel.
Shabbat Shalom.
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