Full disclosure: I'm giving this two stars because of their attempt at resolution, otherwise 1 star, and only then so you didn't think I forgot to rank.
Being the genius I am, I chose BTC on one of the most important nights of my life, my proposal evening. I wanted a classy evening to start off with a nice town car to take us to a special spot, all the while starting my engagement with a lie... that we were only headed to dinner. Hey, it was a surprise. All engagements start with a lie on some level, right? I just wanted a quiet and well-informed, preferably safe driver to drop us off at this special spot, let me do my thing, then have a bottle of champagne open for us to enjoy on our one hour, purposefully extended journey from Jamaica Plain to Mistral for dinner. You see, earlier this week, I sent a detailed itinerary to the company and asked that the driver follow it religiously. Apparently, they did, at least as much as an Atheist follows the Bible religiously. Before you ask, the itinerary was not overly detailed so as to overmanage, but appropriate so that there would be no questions that may tip my girlfriend off to what was happening. It was simple, easy. My friends, it could not go wrong. After all, I had prepared!!! Right?
Then I saw the reviews. My God, the reviews. I hoped that they were just being unfair.. that they were written by loathsome beings who are just never happy no matter what... but after a night's lost sleep, I called the company to make sure. "all is ok" I was told. They told me they had "it covered". Hell, they even read me my engagement Bible. My how I wish I had listened to the reviews.
Fast forward to the big night. All was well for our 7pm prearranged pickup. My girlfriend was even ready on time! I should've known that was a harbinger for bad news. If only I had listened to the reviews... After 10 minutes looking out the window for an "Uber", my lovely gal suggested we wait outside. 7:20 came and went, then 7:30. At 7:38 the Mercedes S class with one dim headlight (that reminded me of a lazy eye) pulled up. Late enough that my ruse of using an Uber was failing fast, but just shy of the final time my cover of opening the Uber app and saying it wasn't working would work. When the driver exited the car, I was disappointed to see she wasn't dressed as one would expect from a car service. She was dressed more like she was making an afternoon trip to the dollar store. She was very sweet, but rattled and immediately asked if I wanted the champagne (Ugh). After I refused, managing by a hair to keep the anger out of my voice and avoid giving up the whole plan to my girlfriend, our intrepid driver starting driving... the wrong direction.... and asked the question that one would only expect at the end of a cheesy 80's movie, or the beginning of a horror flick: "where to?"
My mind flashed to the Engagement Bible. Josh 3:31 "begin thy journey by the street of Green to the Jamaica plain boathouse, but thy shall not speak of it". I asked her to read the Bible, but it was not to be. She had only the Engagement Book of Moron.
My surprise died with that question. So I sheepishly told her, all the while cluing my girlfriend in to what was happening. I sat dejected, wondering if the advance notice would give my girlfriend time to realize what she was about to do and start thinking of her college boyfriend. Only to find more horror as the driver proceeded to get lost twice (even though the place was less than a mile away... and she had GPS). Josh 4:41 "proceed to 507 Jamaicaway and pull thy chairiot to the side, alas". But it was not to be, I watched as the boathouse came in to view, and flew by to the rhythm of "isn't that the...." Yes, she drove right by the place. Ever tried making a U turn in Jamaica Plain? No? Don't.
So my unfailingly patient girlfriend and I directed her, turn by turn, to the now obvious. Dollar Store lady pulled the car to the side, and I ushered my gal through the torrential downpour to the boathouse of love. Once I had popped the question (and the bottle of champagne, which I had to ask for, ...and which was classily served in Stella Artois beer glasses), the ride was nice while we made calls to excited friends and screeching family (hey, she was drunk, it's not her fault). The driver remained sweet, and I truly wish her well. Maybe she will try another service as well?
It turns out this poor sweetling was called in from the bench (aka the dispatch chair) when the driver had a "personal issue".. which I can only hope involved testicles in a vice. Being the company they are, management sent out one of the dispatchers instead of a manager that knew of the Engagement Bible. Not handled well.
I negotiated for half the fare and they offered me a free transition to anyplace in Boston (apparently to be used for any local destination that I don't mind being 40 minutes late to....)
Please move on. Do it for me, do it for you... Just don't do it with Boston Town Car. read more