Paying it Forward

I have been in Southern California for the past week or so; soaking up sunshine, surfer lingo, palm trees, excellent Mexican food, and most importantly, time with my family. There are plenty of stories and photos and tales to go around regarding my week away from Boston, work, social engagements, and real life and we'll get to all of them eventually. But first, I have to tell you this:

Yesterday morning, while still sound asleep on the West Coast, my phone started buzzing. It was 5:20am. I glanced at my phone, saw it was a neighbor in my apartment building and quickly silenced the sucker. My neighbor didn't know I was out West and while I couldn't figure out why she was calling me at 8:20am EST, I figured it couldn't really be that important. She and I often check in with one another regarding packages being shipped to our building or landlord questions and the like so I wasn't too panicked. I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. Then I heard the buzz of a text message. Again, I reached for my phone, and to my horror saw this: "Your car is about to be towed! Move it if you can!"

Every Bostonian's worst nightmare.

Of course I appreciated the heads up, but I gotta tell you, there aren't too many things more frustrating then knowing your car is apparently about to be impounded for no reason you can think of - it's not street-cleaning week, there is no snow(!), and you are totally parked legally - and knowing you are able to do absolutely nothing about it. Because you are on the other side of the country. Try crawling back into bed after that text message. Suddenly dollar signs and tow trucks and hassles of getting to tow lots and more dollar signs were swirling through what had been my mellowed out, loving the SoCal lifestyle, brain. I texted her back explaining my situation and frustration. Many explanation points and a few explicitives may or may not have been used.

Then this happened.

See, my neighbor actually isn't in her apartment right now. She's working on Nantucket for the summer and has sublet her place to some friends of friends. They moved in just a few weeks ago and I met the guy for about two minutes by our front door at the beginning of the month. We exchanged a quick hello and then I left, climbing into my Jeep and driving off, en route to visit a friend in the suburbs. He noticed which car was mine.

And when he heard a commotion outside of our apartment building Monday morning, on what is typically a quiet street, he paid attention. The Public Works trucks pulled up, a tow truck was summoned. It was annual tree-trimming day along our street and they'd posted a 24 hour no parking sign in front of my car. Which I would have seen, had I not been on the other side of the country all week. So new neighbor sees all of this from his apartment window and calls the girl who normally lives there to let her know to contact me. She relays my unfortunate situation back to him and do you know what he does? He goes downstairs, out into the street, and explains what's going on to the Public Works crew. He tells them he would move the car himself if he could, but there's no way he can get the keys (all together now - because I'm on the other side of the country). And so he strikes a deal. He asks the tree trimming crew to postpone their plans by one day. He promises the car will be moved by tomorrow morning and swears he'll relay all of this information to me.

He does and it is and do you know what? The Public Works crew and the tow truck and all of the involved parties agree not to tow my car. I have to write it again, because I still can't believe it as I type. In a city notorious for its idiotic parking codes and rules and ticket happy meter maids? They agree not to tow my car.

They change the no parking date on the sign, they tell my neighbor I need to have the car moved by Tuesday morning at 7:30 am.

My flight back to Boston is delayed and I don't get back to my apartment until 1am. My car is still there, safe and sound. I collapse into bed exhausted and beyond grateful, I am up at 7am to hurry downstairs in my pjs and rain boots to move her across the street, out of tree trimming and harms way. She is still safe and sound tonight and as I type, I can look out my bedroom window to see my beloved Jeep parked with no threat from tow trucks or trees or signs.

All because my brand-spankin' new neighbor decided to proactively help a stranger. When I relayed this story to my brother last night, he commented on the noble efforts of my neighbor. I agreed completely and said I was embarrassed to admit I'm not sure I would have done the same. Not because I wouldn't want to help but because I don't think it ever would have crossed my mind to try and negotiate with the city and a tow truck. It's a shame but up until last night, I would have seen it as a lost cause and most likely would have walked away angry, annoyed, and frustrated on behalf of everyone who has dealt with the insanity that is Boston parking.

Let's just say I'm glad it was him doing the legwork yesterday and not me. Words cannot express how grateful my wallet and I am. And how today, en route to work, I had a renewed sense of faith in humanity. Neighborly, indeed.