There’s a gesture that I thought was exclusive to Long Island women until a woman from The Bronx did it to me. You’ve seen it. It’s a WTF/disbelief/anger blend that, I learned this week, can be found in Connecticut also.
Try it: scrunch your shoulders up, pull your elbows back with your arms tight at your sides like you pulled open a dresser drawer, and turn your palms up. Poke your head ever so slightly forward and squint at your target.
I’ll call it “that” move.
Now I’ll tell you how I earned it.
My car died. Every trouble light on my dashboard came on at once.
“Ruh-roh,” I mumbled.
I grabbed my phone and googled “all car trouble lights illuminated” and learned that one of those lights may as well have been a silhouette of a hand giving me the finger.
I called a towing company.
The driver, a young guy with a big smile, told me to hop in his truck while he got my car onto the flatbed.
I shook his hand and introduced myself.
“Hi, I’m John Higgins, but my friends call me John Higgins.”
“Oh, well, ok then John Higgins. Jimmy, nice to meet you.”
As we pulled away, a call came over his radio telling him to pick up another disabled car and bring it a few blocks away to the owner’s house. The owner wasn’t with that car.
“Do you mind? It’s on our way,” he asked me.
“Not at all,” I assured him.
He spotted the car, hitched it to a tow bar in the back of his truck, and off we went.
As we neared the owner’s house, he saw the long driveway with a narrow opening to the street.
He stopped in front of the house and assessed the situation.
I thought I could be of help. “I tell you what,“ I said, “I’ll jump out and guide you back.”
“Yeah? That’d be great. Thanks, dude.”
“No sweat,” I assured him.
I got out and walked to the rear of his truck while he pulled up past the house for more turning room.
The owner came out and started up her lawn. She was about my age and her hair was just done. Had to be. It was perfect. I wondered what she thought of my hair by comparison. My hair always looks like I combed it with an M-80. As she neared I saw she was wearing a velour jogging suit. I haven’t seen those since college.
“Hi,’’ she said smiling but sounding exasperated.
“Hi,” I returned, “is that velour?”
She slowed her pace and looked down at her outfit. “Uh, this? Yeah. Why?”
“No reason.”
Her smile went flat.
She shook off my question then resumed, “Glad you guys got here so quick. You busy today?” She saw the other car on the flatbed. (Mine.)
“Not really, it’s been a regular day, same old same old,” I answered.
The driver started backing up so I waved him a little left. “Little more, Jimmy,” I called to him.
He gave me a thumbs up and continued.
“Where would you like your car placed?” I asked her, fanning my hands to the left to keep Jimmy away from the mailbox.
“Can you put it next to the van in the driveway?” She pointed at it.
I looked where she wanted it and rubbed my chin. “Hmmm, no can do, ma’am.”
“Really?”
“Nope. No good. Sorry.”
“Damn,” she sighed. “That’s where my husband wanted it so he can work on it.”
“Sorry, we can’t. I’ll explain it to your husband if you’d like. You know, while you go jogging.”
“What? I’m not jogging-“
“Well, I just thought…”
“-and No I don’t need you to explain anything to my husband,” sounding a little pissy. She looked me up and down after saying that.
Jimmy stopped the truck, got out, and walked back to us.
“All set. Where do you want me to put it?” He asked her.
I headed back to the truck to get in.
“Anywhere now, I guess,” she said. “I was hoping you could place it next to the van…”
“No problem,” he interrupted.
(CRAP) “Well,” I wiped imaginary grease off my hands, “I’ll let you take it from here, Jimmy,” I told him, turning to go back into the truck
“Really?” she said.”Your partner said you couldn’t put it there.”
“Partner? Him? Ma’am that’s his car on the truck.”
I turned to her as I opened the passenger door and waved like the Queen.
“You’re not a tow guy?!”
I looked down at my feet and confessed meekly. “Um, No?”
Apprehension made me phrase that answer to sound like a question. I find I do that when I feel my answer may result in punishment.
Then she did it.
“That” move.
Her eyes did that squint with a piercing gaze like she was trying to see through the cloud of stupidity that engulfed my head.
I skulked back onto the passenger seat in the tow truck.
Jimmy got her car next to that van in under a minute.
He climbed in the driver’s seat and before he started the truck he asked me if I told her that I worked with him.
“Nope. Never. She assumed it. Shame on her for making assumptions…and for wearing that outfit. Did you see that?”
He said nothing, started the engine, and pulled away.
A few miles later I broke the silence.
“Say, Jim?”
“Yeah.”
“Does this truck have those yellow siren lights?”
“Yup”
“Can I -“
“No.”
“-put them…forget it.”