Black History Monday: The Night I Met Iman

I didn't actually meet Iman. Back in the late '80s I was preparing to take the road test for my driver's license. I'm not sure if it's still the case now, but part of the requirement in New York State back then was to sit through a five-hour class. Anyone who wanted to take the road test had to sit through this class, even people whose licenses had expired long ago. No, my license hadn't expired, but Iman's had.

After I'd walked into the Midtown classroom and got in line to register, I just happened to look over at the door. There she was! She walked in wearing jeans and a crisp white blouse and carrying, surprisingly enough, a boxed bottle of Eternity perfume and a pack of Marlboro Lights. She obviously didn't want to be there and took her time walking over to the line. She took so much time, in fact, that I thought she had no plans to get on line. A man had walked in slightly ahead of her and it looked like he was with her. I mistakenly thought he was getting in line for her. Then I realized they were not together, as she finally made it to the end of the line.

Always shy around celebrities, I said nothing. Inside, however, I was screaming. I couldn't believe I was going to spend the next five hours in the same room with Iman! I looked around at everyone else in the class. If I remember correctly, they were all men! No one even seemed to recognize her. As time when on, however, it was obvious that a few of the men did, but they acted like they didn't care.

The instructor, a middle-aged, overweight, rather disheveled man, began the class and, I wish I could remember everything that happened, but I can't. I only remember a few things: Iman raised her hand to voice concerns about getting a new license in time to travel. That was when she mentioned her long-expired one. I looked over at her as she was speaking and was just blown away at how clear her skin was and how shiny her hair was. She was probably close to 30 years old then but still in the prime of her modeling career. The marriage to David Bowie and her grand dame status was still years away.

Another thing I remember is the instructor's visual aids. He used little toy cars. One of the cars was a white Rolls Royce. At one point he created an elaborate scenario involving the Rolls and two other cars, saying that Iman was inside the Rolls. I laughed, but then I felt stupid when no one else did.

After about 3 1/2 hours Iman announced that she had to go. The instructor said he understood and she wished everyone a nice evening and left. The instructor looked around the room , wanting confirmation that she was famous. "Her name is 'eye-man,' right?" A few of the men nodded and said "Yes." And that was the end of that.

I suppose that, under different circumstances Iman would not have been left alone as she was that night. We were all there as a means to an end, trying to get something we needed in order to get from once place to another. For most of us there that night it meant getting from Manhattan to Long Island or the Bronx to Scarsdale. For Iman it could have meant anywhere, and it did.

Buzzing off for now...