Ah.. the fun with Valets.... The one time a Valet managed to talk the keys out of my hands, he can't start the damn car. It was my little 99 Cutlass, and it has several child safety features. One of them is, if you get in, and turn the key, the car won't even begin to crank unless you have your foot on the brake as well. Brake MUST be depressed in order to start. I told him that, he started it, and I heard him chirping the tires as he drove off with my car. I let it slide, until he rounded the turn with all 4 tires squealing in protest. When he came running back, I dropped him with a shot to the throat, and told him if he ever touched my car again, I'd slit it. Told the valet manager, that my car was not going to be touched by any more of his valets. Considering I had a rather large knife in the door of the car, and rather visible, (enough so that he commented on it) I think he was a bit spooked. When I left the hotel, the valet manager had to walk with me out to my car, because I was not going to allow anyone else to touch it. The valet I'd dropped was very apolegetic, and more than a bit scared. (I have a thing for wearing all black, and happened to have my trenchcoat on as well. Security has a thing for harassing me, but I enjoy the look. Almost like the matrix, but long hair.) Since then, no valet has driven my car. Ever. I drive it, the valet rides, or I park elsewhere, and walk to the building. Especially with my late Town Car, and current Eldorado.
