My Saab Story

J Philip Faranda November 19, 2010

My Saab story has a happy ending. My last car was a beige 1996 Saab 900 that I drove for many, many miles. It was a 5 speed with a huge trunk and groovy windows. I loved that car. I was driving on route 6 to a showing in Orange County midway between Bear Mountain and Monroe when the thing just died. Kaboom. Whimper whimper. Stop. I reached my buyer on their cell in the hope that they could pick me up en route. They went a different en route. I was en screwed. 

A parkway cop stopped and said he’d call for help. He was sorry about my lost opportunity to make a sale, but that’s baseball. He told me to expect a call from the tow company any time. Off he went, and while my car couldn’t race my mind sure did. What to do? I needed a ride. These people were stoked about seeing this house.

This is where friends and teammates come in. I called one of my agents, Tom Ricapito, and told him of my plight. Tom was relaxing at home with his brother, who was home from college on Las Vegas, but drove out to Orange County to collect me. He took me to the house and waited with his brother while I showed my people through. They decided to make an offer. We parted company with the clients, and Tom deposited me back at the car.

After I waited what seemed like an hour, my police officer friend appeared again and asked if I had gotten a call from the tow truck. No, I said, I hadn’t. He said he’d call them again and apologized for the wait. I shrugged my shoulders. “Actually,” I said “I got a ride from a friend and I sold a house, then just got dropped off again.” 

“HA! Sure you did,” my cop buddy said. Then he asked for my card and said he’d make sure a tow truck called ASAP, which they did. I don’t blame him for not believing me, because 3 years later it’s hard to believe it myself.

But Tom was there, and he can vouch.  And the deal closed!

 

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