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Hey, Mr. Valentino!

By: Adam Wolfe

Frankly, parking somebody else’s car used to be one of the things I despised the most. It didn’t matter if it was for a pal, my uncle, or even my wife; the idea of parking another person’s car was simply unacceptable to me. To me, it’s just like putting clothes on them.
I got a call from Mr. Valentino, the auto parts guy. “Would you like to be a valet attendant for a day?” Don’t know what to react. Tired from hiding malicious issues surrounding our place, I thought I deserved a recess. Then here I was being asked to act the role of a valet attendant—inclusive with the compulsory suit. Please give me a break. I hope he had asked me to be a macho dancer or even massage parlor attendant instead. But obviously, the project had to be motoring-interrelated.
Despite my rejection, my superior sales-talk ability—exactly the kind he uses on young girls—got me over.
Here’s a confession: Even after approving to do it, I felt so uneasy about the whole thing that I really attempted to wiggle my way out of the project. I did it by postponing the first settled pictorial session. Unprofessional? Maybe, but I was set to take whatever they had to say as long I could loose myself from this potentially humiliating scenario.
I was in no doubt that my superior would just be so dissatisfied that he’d eventually just find someone else to accomplish the project. I intended to just fade away if he didn’t bring up the matter again. But with the kind of perseverance that one could only start after a lifetime of getting junked by the ladies, my superior just postponed the shoot.
The agent was already at the reception area expecting for us to arrive.. That day, everything sounds to be normal.
The lodge organizers were gracious and snappy. Having a satisfying nature, is a must for a lodge valet parking boys. The supervisor quickly briefed me about the ABCs of being a valet attendant. It shows easy at first, but after knowing about the possible effects of loppiness, this role could truly send me to jail.
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