Follow that Russian!

I realize it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted anything and I had idea for a rant about women who let their husband shop on their own with no clear instructions or map or CLUE what the hell to do in a store! That WAS going to be my next entry, until I heard this story. Allow me to apologize in advance to the person who told me this tale. I may have embellished a tad bit. Ok, A LOT!

Recently a friend of mine had his car towed; the reasons for the vehicle removal still remain a mystery to me but regardless he need to go fetch it. So he recruits some friends to pick him and take him to where his car has been towed which is lovingly referred to as “The Pound.” When you first hear the name your mind immediately conjures up images of adorable puppies and kittens waiting to be adopted by generous, loving people who want to give them good homes. After you shake that fantasy out of your mind you can wrap your head around what looks like a concentration camp for wayward automobiles dropped in the middle of a demilitarized zone. As they entered this vehicular holding pen it’s no surprise that they would lock the doors and left the car running as my friend went in to reclaim his car.

After making a mad dash from the car to the attendant’s “shack (meaning it was little more than a four walls and what you may call a roof) my buddy noticed the other fugitives from moving violations there to also claim their property (by the looks of most of them getting towed would only be a blip on their record.) He made his way to the booth that housed a “man” incased the plexiglass, who closely resembled Jabba the Hutt in a wrinkled, oily shirt and a NASCAR hat and asked to retrieve his auto. After rifling through a mound of paperwork being weighted down by a half eaten sub and a Big Gulp and pounding on a computer circa 1989 the attendant pulled up his information.

“Sorry, I can’t let you take the car,” said “Jabba.”

“Why?” my friend asked.

“Your inspection sticker expired,” “Jabbba” said while spitting the bite of sub from his mouth onto the plexglass.

“How am I supposed to get my car off of this lot?”

Just then my pal heard noise coming from the corner where he saw a tattooed man with a ponytail and earring who can have been Jerry Garcia’s grandfather. “Hey,” the man said with a voice which sounded like he had smoking from birth said, “I have a friend who will tow you anywhere in the city for fifty bucks.” He thought, “Great!” and motioned for “Barron Von Zipper” to go get his friend with the tow truck. From the corner the man slides open the window next to him and yells out, “YO!” As this is happens my buddy and the man head outside where he sees the door of this tow truck which must have been part of the original set of “Sanford and Son” swing open. There out hops a one legged Russian in a leather jacket and his one eyed cat. From the other side of the truck comes the Russian’s son who grabs his dad’s crutches from the back of the truck on his way over and hands them to his father. The Russian dude lights up a cigarette as my friend and the guy explain the situation. “Sure sure. Fifty bucks,” the Russian says and they hitch up my friend’s car. After the car is hooked up to the back of the truck my friend explains to the Russian, his one eyed cat and his son where they were going. “I got it,” the Russian and my buddy heads back to the car where his friends were waiting to take him home.

As my friend gets into the car, the Russian takes off, car and all. My pal leaps into the car and an OJ style chase ensues. Weaving in and out of the city traffic the car carrying my friend and his buddies try to overtake the Russians and the one eyed cat. They eventually did get in front of the tow truck and guided them to where the car had to go; surprisingly they were headed in the right direction the entire time. When they reached the destination, they unhitched the car and my friend paid the Russian his money. As they got back in the car my buddy asked the Russian’s son why they didn’t wait for him. “We figured you knew where you were going. Call if you need us again,” he said and drove off without leaving their number.

This WAS funnier when my friend told it (maybe because it was early in the morning and I didn’t have my coffee yet. I wasn’t as sharp.) Some stories are just there to make you go, “Huh?” Hey! They can’t all be gems!