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Midweek Madness: Stories of a Valet

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When Valets Wanna Smash and Mash

Let me tell you about what happened last night…(and a shout out to the Vancouver valet.) Dude drives up in a big old Mercedes been completely pimped out with the big rims and spinner wheels.

He gets out takes one look at me says don’t scratch it.

Besides all the expletives that came to mind immediately when I heard those words, there was a couple things I wanted to do his face. Of course that was in my mind. I would never lay a hand on anyone.

But there’s nothing like an insult before you drive a man’s car. It makes you want to drive it into a brick wall and just go oops.

I mean seriously who was this cat. He didn’t look big enough to be a basketball player… NFL player.

He didn’t have the demeanor of an accountant or attorney much less a doctor. So I’m left with a question bouncing around in my head how did this joker afford this mac daddy mobile.

Who knows. Maybe he is a singer or something. For that matter he just might be someone that owns his own business if you know what I mean. Little import little export. hehehe.

I realize I’m being totally racist but the guy insulted me as soon as I walked up to him. He treated me like a piece of trash. He’s probably an engineer just doing the Tuesday thug Thing.

A Thug Life

What’s the golden rule say?
So you got it. I labeled him a drug dealer. Got in his car and while I drove it to the perfect parking spot I pretended I was him. What must go on in his mind during the day.

Slow driving to the parking spot I envisioned a world where I was the king pin. But, it was all on me. I had my dealers I had my movers I had everything lined up. But there was stress involved. This kind of car doesn’t come for free if you know what I mean.

Continuing on in my fantasy….Maybe I just dealt with one of the (gang) members of my team who didn’t pull his own weight or lost his merchandise if you know what I mean. I had to bust them up a little just to make sure that he doesn’t double-cross me again.  A man’s gotta be taught a lesson.

The life of a gangsta, I am very aware that I’m completely racial profiling this guy. So my default is to remind you of the disclaimers and if you don’t like this shit get off the page. But I love ya! So Don’t. 🙂 And I say that totally respectfully.

I’m just having fun with it. The guy probably won the lottery or maybe he’s an MIT grad that invented some new form of superglue.

He’s got a patent on something or internet millionaire and his royalties alone are paying him hundreds of thousand of dollars a month.

But for a moment I could only imagine the connections that he has is a gangster. The thug life. Reminds me of Netflix Narco.

Out of curiosity I go ahead and flip his radio on… course I’d expect to hear all of the typical gangster music, but the dude sounds like he is listening to Chopin’s 5th 3rd movement or some shit like that. No low base begins to rattle my sternum maybe I need my head checked after all.  Maybe this guy is Bill Gate’s illegitimate child (not that he has one).  I thought I could get used to driving this car around.

Plus he had a one pretty hot tamale on his arm. She would be nice to hang out with too. As long as I could afford her. LOL I did it again….silly me. I am sure that she is totally low maintenance.

My buddy ended up delivering the vehicle to them later last night. You know what his tip was?

$3.  Yep, you heard me right three dollars.  Might as well have been 3 doll-hairs. $120,000 car safely parked and brought back to its owner in a timely manner for three dollars.  Didn’t even steal money outta the ash tray. Not that I’d ever do that. People have cameras in their cars these days, besides…what kind’a valet would I be.

I don’t do that stuff. But I might dream about it.

Published inTuesday Night Terror

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