Giving Thanks

Alright peebuzz, don't be alarmed - I'm still firey and mean, but it's Thanksgiving (well it just passed a few days ago and it ain't Monday yet, so it still counts) and I want to take a break from the generally pissed off nature of this blog to , well, give thanks.

You know, people always ask me things about my job. What's the coolest car I've driven. Have I ever parked a celebrity's car. What's the worst car I've driven. What's the craziest thing I've ever seen. Stuff like that. I try to answer those questions as best I can, but the truth is I've seen a lot of shit go down in the 8 (almost 9) years I've been a valet so I don't always give the grandest response. It's really hard to come up with a good story when you're not really dwelling on one because after almost a whole decade of doing this, very few things strike me as abnormal or even memorable. And in due time I will write about the many many bizarre, infuriating, funny, fucked up, baffling, and just plain memorable experiences I've had. Especially after I find the journal I kept when I was working the graveyard shift at a swanky hotel in downtown San Francisco.

But right now because it's Thanksgiving and because something memorable did happen to me earlier this year, I can share something for the occasion.

Some time around June or July, I was running around fetching people their cars. Hopping in and out of cars, handing people their keys, and collecting my tips. During a little down time I decided to get something out of my car. That's when I realized that I didn't have my car keys. The fuckers weren't in any of my pockets, the valet podium, or the lock box where we keep all the keys. I ran to my car hoping I had just left them in the ignition after getting to work half asleep. No dice, because I did remember that I had gotten somethings out of the car earlier AND the alarm was set. Can't do that without the keys.

SHIT.

I had only parked ONE car and the keys weren't in there either. I had, however, brought several cars up to the driveway - a few were supposedly returning and most were check outs.

I spent the day searching every car that came back later for my keys. Nothing. Asked the other valets to keep an eye out. Nothing. The next day and for the next few days, I spent all my down time searching each car that was there that day for those damned keys. Nothing. I waited a few days and called all the car rental companies' lost and found in the area. Nothing.

After a couple of weeks I gave up. Maybe a week after that, I thought that maybe I should call the rental car companies one more time. I was gathering all the phone numbers I could so I could call Hertz, Alamo, and all the other lesser known companies, when the valet phone rang.

Goddamned valet phone. Almost every time the bastard rings it has trouble on the other end. But not that time. That time, there was a lady on the other end telling me that she had just found a set of keys in her car that she had never seen before. She said that she had stayed at the hotel and figured that maybe the keys fell out of one of the valets' pockets. She was worried that maybe another guest had reported a set of missing keys and wanted to get them back to who ever owned them.

I shit you not, I got that call when I was looking up all those numbers for the car rental companies!

I couldn't believe it myself. So I started to describe my keys. A set of older GM keys. Yes. Two of them look almost the same, but one has a red cover and the other a white cover. Yes. A Clifford alarm remote. Yes! A little black nub that seemingly has no use. YES!

I told her that they were the keys to my car and that I was super happy that she decided to call the hotel. She said that she would mail them to the hotel. I asked if she would like me to send her a check to cover the shipping. She said, get this, "no". I thanked her again.

A few days later my keys arrived. A few days after that she got a thank-you card and a coffee table book full of  pictures of San Francisco from S.F.'s most bangin'est valet. We are friends on the Facebook now.

Did I mention that she lives in Canada? Yes, she was willing to ship my keys internationally without monetary compensation back to my monkey ass. And it was totally my fault that they ended up in her car (I forgot to zip up my jacket pockets)!

After all the things I've seen on the job - fights, arrests, drug use, drunken behavior, racism, classism, crackheads, tranny crackheads, prostitution, psycho cabbies, and guests from hell - an act of kindness is what I will remember about 2010. Losing the keys wouldn't have been a big deal, I had some spares. No biggie. But the truth of the matter is that there are still people in this world who do go about their lives trying to do the right thing whenever they can. I deal with these people (the good people) too every day. They are the ones who keep me and the other valets from going postal everyday.

So this year, I'm thankful for lots of things. Having the good fortune to cross paths with people like Miss Lorie M. is one of them. Thank you for reminding this curmudgeony bastard that decent people still exist. Happy Thanksgiving.