Valet

I was forced to valet my car tonight. I despise valet and consider it an invasion of privacy far more than I consider it a convenience or luxury. I know, I know. Paranoid? Maybe. But ever since the movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off, the imagery that comes to mind when one mentions "valet parking" is that of my car being taken away for a day of highway laps around the city faster than a speeding bullet.

It never fails, if forced to valet (after twenty minutes of looking for alternative parking!), I immediately start hiding everything of "value" that's too big to fit in my purse while all other items start being packed up. Yep, all smaller items such as spare keys, loose change, paperwork, umbrellas, CDs, chargers, and anything else that isn't nailed down find their way into my handbag for the night. What I end up with is a twenty pound purse, odd looks from the attendant and a mountain of crap to dig through when I'm trying to find my wallet to pay for my half of dinner at the end of the night. Kind of embarrassing when you're pulling out a months worth of mail and dog treats in a high end restaurant. But hey, a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

I think the biggest insult to injury during tonight's valet parking event was that they didn't actually park my car anywhere! It sat in the same street spot I left it, waiting for them to drive it away. I paid thirteen dollars to park my own car? A meter would have been cheaper. Of course, the "pros" are that I could watch my car from the restaurant window and had no worries about strangers commandeering it, but the major con? I felt totally ripped off! Oh well. The fact is, at the end of the night, I got parking, enjoyed dinner, and had a first world problem that I could write this post about. Cest la vie!