Everyone knows I hate Valet Parkers – it seems like such a nice luxury, but I rarely have a positive experience with them…
It can be nerve-wracking handing your car keys to a total stranger at a valet station. You don’t know if they’re responsible drivers, what their definition of “gentle” is, or often where your car is headed. If all parking valets were trustworthy, there wouldn’t be a need for the “valet key” that prevents one from opening the trunk and glovebox.
When we decided to delve into the secret life of valet parking attendants, we expected some stories about concealed door dings, petty theft or occasional hijinks behind the wheel. But we had no idea the extent to which some valets routinely take liberties with their customers’ property.
In general, I’ve had good experience with valets. The valet at the Edward’s theater, for example, would regularly fill up my tank, take the car to the car wash and times when I’d show up on a date, he would make sure to give extra attention in an effort to make me look good. This wasn’t always in the Bentley or something that driving to the gas station was fun for them, but even in my Toyota (in fact, mostly in the Toyota…I miss that thing).
That said, I picked my car up from the valet at the Hotel Derek once (these guys usually rock…need anything out of the ordinary at 330am after getting out of the club…they’ll take care of you) and there were cig butts in the ashtray, half a joint (thanks?) and empty cans of beer in the back seat. Upon further inspection, 132 miles had been put on the car. Evidently, one of the new guys figured I’d be out cold til noon (which I was) and took the car after his shift (I’m assuming) and picked up a friend or two and drove to Galveston (gotta love bread-crumbs on the nav system).
I got a few free tanks of gas, a full detail, a free weekend at the hotel with everything comped. The car was a lease and is gone now…I think I came out on top.