✨ Episode 10: “The Goldfish That Made It to Logan”

It’s 5:12 AM and I’m outside a two-story colonial in Lexington, headlights low, sipping a double espresso, waiting on the "Goldstein family airport extravaganza.” They’re headed to Orlando. Disney trip. You already know what that means: seven bags, three car seats, one high-strung dad, and a mom who triple-checked the TSA rules on liquids.

But there’s a twist.

Out comes the youngest—maybe 6 years old—holding a round glass bowl.

Inside? A goldfish named Nibbles.

“We can’t leave him! He’s part of the family!”

The mom gives me that “I’m so sorry” look. The dad looks like he’s aged 10 years since sunrise. I say:

“No problem. I’ve had worse passengers.”

Cue laughter. Tension defused. Bags loaded. Booster seats clicked in. Everyone's in, and I adjust the temp to a crisp 68 degrees. Luxe ride mode: engaged.

🐠 Goldfish Protocol Activated

The kid's holding Nibbles like he's Simba. I hand him a towel to stabilize the bowl. “Let me know if he needs water, snacks, or an inspirational speech.”

Midway down I-93, we get a call from Grandma. She was supposed to fish-sit. Big oops. They left without her realizing.

Now we have a decision to make. We’re near the airport—do we turn around? Ship the fish? Smuggle it through TSA like a liquid asset?

I pull over at a Dunkin’ on the East Boston loop. We have a five-minute “goldfish summit.” Dad wants to sneak it in. Mom's Googling “can you fly with a goldfish?” Kid’s nearly in tears. I offer Plan B:

“Let’s drop the fam at the terminal. I’ll deliver Nibbles back to Grandma myself.”

The kid gasps. “You’d do that?”

I nod. “At Luxe, we don’t leave anyone behind.”

🛬 Luxe Loyalty Goes Beyond the Ride

I pull back into Logan, pop the trunk, and help unload bags like it’s a NASCAR pit stop. I give the mom my number and say, “Text me when you land. I’ll send proof of life.”

The kid hands me a sticker. It’s a starfish. “For being awesome.”

I drive Nibbles home like royalty, avoiding potholes like I’m escorting a fragile UN delegate.

When I hand him off to Grandma, she’s in her robe, eyes wide, whispering, “They weren’t joking.”

🏁 Moral of the Story

Sometimes, being New England’s best black car service means more than premium SUVs and prompt arrivals. It means showing up for the little things. Even if that little thing has fins.

🚗 Book your next family ride (car seats included!):

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