Tonight at The W, I had some very interesting conversations with people.
Conversation #1: Woman with pink hair
A woman pulls up in the valet lane and I walk out to talk to her. She rolls down her window and asks, "How much for valet parking?"
I responded, "Eight dollars for Manny's and 13 for The W."
My supervisor had walked up at this point, just in case she needed to exchange money for services. Well, the next thing this lady says has kept us entertained the rest of the night.
"How do I know where I'm going," she inquired. Which really seems like a self-explanatory and rhetorical question. She was serious, though, and waited for me to prompt her for the answer.
Naturally, the only question I can say without losing it is, "Are you going to Manny's for dinner?"
What I really wanted to ask was, "Are you English, or retarded?"
"No," she said. Now my supervisor is cracking up walking away, and I have to stand there and tell her it will be 13 dollars, without laughing myself. Needless to say, she didn't park there, because she wanted to find someplace easier, but what she meant was cheaper.
As she drove away, I look at my supervisor and said, "At this point should she legally be allowed to have a license?"
We both laughed and went on with mocking and imitations of her lack of intelligence.
Conversation #2: Valet with attitude
I noticed a valet's car in the ramp where we aren't supposed to be parking. We have a free ramp to park in, and all valets park there. This valet is obviously special, as he is a refugee seeking political asylum, who by the way, drives a Jeep Commander. Not really sure how he can afford that...
I walk up to him and say, "Can you please start parking at TCF?"
And he assumes I am speaking about the cars we're parking for the guests, and I have to clarify for him. Obviously, English isn't his native language, so yelling at him really won't do any good.
He says, "Nobody has ever told me I can't park there."
"Well, how long have you worked here? I know it is off and on, but how long have you been parking cars here?"
"Longer than you," he replied. This pretty much gets my blood boiling because I put in 40 hours a week there, and he might work a total of 40 hours in a month. Not to mention, I'm about to be promoted to the third supervisor.
So, I say, "Well, I'm telling you right now, you don't park your own vehicle down there anymore. You need to park in the ramp like everybody else."
"No, somebody other than you needs to tell me that," he retorted.
"Really? You're telling me you need somebody else to say that? I can arrange that, right now, if that's really what you need," I snapped at him. Really, what I wanted to do was punch him in the face.
I turn to my left, and said to Justin, the other supervisor who was working tonight, "Justin, could you please tell Seifu (Say-fu) that he should not park his vehicle in the Foshay ramp, but in TCF like all the other valets?"
Justin looked at Seifu and said, "Seifu, park your car in TCF, not in Foshay, just like all the other valets. If you don't, you'll be written up."
I laughed and walked away. Then the three of us, Justin, Rachel (other supervisor) and I had a quick talk about it. Most of which included us mocking him and laughing at how upset he got.
It's a good thing I can laugh about my job otherwise I would hate it. Oh, wait, I do hate it quite a bit. Especially, since the first of the year, I've made a total of $51 in tips. That's usually what I would make on the slow nights. How lame...
I met a guy about two weeks ago, who said if I wanted a job to call him. I call him, sent him an email and his response was: Let's touch base in Feb. I've implemented a hiring freeze until then.
What the F. Oh well, I guess everyday above ground is a good one, right?
