Tuesday, August 03, 2004

A Minor Incident Concerning a Valet

So I was at Miyagi's on Sunset a couple weeks ago, which I only mention because it feels very satisfyingly LA to say I was someplace "on Sunset," and creates the impression that my living here actually has effects beyond me sitting in an apartment surrounded by a different city than that which used to surround my apartment.

Anyway, because it's LA and because it's a trendy eatery on Sunset, there are painfully gorgeous cars driving up to be parked via the mandatory valet parking. The really nice ones, they're apparently afraid to drive too far. Either that or they like having them in front of the restaurant, just like the car wash on the corner has the same sparkling Jaguar parked prominently every day, as if we don't realize it's the owner planting it there like the first dollar in a tip jar. Back at Miyagi's, someone gets out of a luscious black Ferrari and the valets just leave it there.

Eventually I notice that a valet is actually getting into the Ferrari. Does he dare? Is he really going to re-park it? That would be so cool, getting to drive this perfect, spotless, pristine masterpiece of Italian sports car. And yet, one would also be paralyzed with fear. What if one should scratch it, or grind the gears? This is simultaneously the best and worst part of being a valet. He pulls it forward, around the car in front of it. Then he rolls down the window as the other valets snap photos of him in the car. Then he parks the Ferrari in front of the car it had been parked behind. He got in it and drove it esseentially just to move it one car length forward. Was that necessary? Or were they really just playing? Would a Ferrari owner be cool with that? I think it would bother me.

On the way out I noticed, on closer inspection, that the Ferrari had some fingerprint smudges on it after all. Piece of junk.

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