The name of the company was Executive Transportation Services, an uninspired if descriptive name for a company that for nearly forty years had served countless business conferences, weddings, proms and celebrity appearances. The owner, a small man by the name of Paul Whittaker, was spending the day "off". Instead of hibernating in his office under mountains of paperwork, he was on the service shop floor, looking over his staff and admiring the fleet of limousines that he'd amassed over time. Most of them were new; he found himself always needing to replenish his fleet to keep up with the times. A dozen Town Cars, a pair of just-delivered 300s and a Hummer H2 (possibly his least-favorite of the bunch because it was so obnoxious) were in active service right now. He really loved these displays of opulence and status. Even if it was only a rental, he knew that if you arrived in the back of a limousine, you were showing up in style.
If pressed for an opinion, however, there was one limousine that he favored among all of his cars. It was the first limo he bought for his service nearly forty years ago--a 1966 Cadillac. He'd kept it all these years (with several refits over time) and it served as a reminder to him of just how far he'd come, where he'd started and what everything was all about. Now and then he'd take it out on a call, and now was one of those times. He still enjoyed to run calls now and then, as he did when he was the only employee. Now was one of those times.
He ran his fingers over the fender, painted a rich, deep black. The Caddy's classic lines and proportions were unmatched in his opinion. He adjusted his tie and put on his cap, and slid into the soft leather driver's seat of the big Cadillac, twisting the key. The Caddy's 500-inch big block rumbled to life, then settled into a soft, barely-audible idle. He slowly motored out of the garage and headed for his pickup.
He could feel all the stares and gazes upon him as he motored slowly down the boulevard. This old Caddy got attention like no other limousine ever did, not even his Hummer. The early-evening sun glowed in the limo's deep black paint as he arrived at the home in this upscale neighborhood. It was prom night at the local high school, and a large group of friends had pooled their cash to rent the limo for the night. Three young couples stepped out of the house, and the instant they saw the black beauty they all stopped and marveled at the old beast. Paul stepped out of the limo and opened the door with his gloved hand. He heard one of the teenagers express disappointment at first about not getting a Hummer, but once they saw the rich black leather interior he quickly changed his tune, saying the old Caddy was "way cooler" than any Hummer ever would be, that nobody else would ever show up in anything quite like this. After all--every limo company in town had at least one Hummer, but how many had a classic Cadillac?
This is the part of the job that Paul really enjoyed--watching these people enjoy themselves and having a good time with his help. The night, as usual, went off without a hitch. The kids treated the limo like it was a priceless artifact (due to its age and exclusivity) and later that night as Paul drove back to the shop, he wondered to himself why he didn't do this more often.