A Lesson in the Risks of Valet Parking

Our alarm goes off at 6:00am, just like it does every morning, but this morning is different. Instead of snoozing till 7:00, we have to get up so that Katherine can drive us to the airport.

Boulder is at the end of the bed and I reach down and pull her up against me so I can bury my face in her fur one last time. The only thing I regret about our vacation is the fact that I will be away from Boulder for so long. Who would have ever thought I would become so attached to this crazy dog!

As we are loading the Murano, my suitcase malfunctions and we can’t get the handle to slide back down inside the case. Thank goodness this happens in our driveway instead of at the airport. So much for my careful packing – I stuff everything into the new suitcase and we are off.

On the airplane, Sam and I try to remember the last time we took a week long vacation together. We realize we haven’t done it since our honeymoon in October 2000. We’ve taken lots of long weekends, even some Wednesday through Sunday trips, but nothing longer. The realization makes us giddy!

We land in Jacksonville without incident and catch the shuttle to Jax Park where Terry and Sandy have left their car valet parked for us. The lady behind the desk takes our credit card, gives us our key, and sends us on our way. But the key belongs to a Buick, and Sandy & Terry drive a Mercedes. Hmmm.



We go back in and explain to the woman behind the desk that our car is a Mercedes. She looks at the key and matches it to the small tan envelope it came from, “Nope,” she declares, “this is a Buick. This is your number, 0-696, so this is your car. It’s not a Mercedes.”

If the situation had been reversed, I like to think Sam and I might have turned to each other and said, “Well then, that clears it up! Sandy & Terry must have traded in the Buick for this Mercedes and simply forgot to mention it to us. What a nice surprise! We will be on our merry way!”

I am not sure how Jax Park would have worked that out with the true owner of the Mercedes, but the lady behind the counter seemed to exude an air of certainty that I am sure would have convinced the owner that he did indeed drive a Buick.

But since we were being asked to take this Buick instead of the Mercedes, we were not so easily convinced. We stayed firm, no easy task with this woman, until she finally took us seriously and began looking around the small office, trying to figure out what to do.

She disappeared into the back, and then would reappear at the desk again, opening and closing small envelopes.

Every so often she would ask us, “Ford?”

We: “No.”

She: “Chrysler?”

We: “No, Mercedes”

She: “Oh.”

30 second pause.

She: “Buick?”

We: “No.”

She: “Honda?”

We” “Mercedes!”

She: “Oh, right, just checking.”

Was she testing us? Or just not very bright? I think it was the latter, but it was hard to tell.

At one point, after being in the back for several minutes, she walked out, looked right at Sam and asked, “May I help you?” I am not kidding! I couldn’t help myself, I rolled my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh to which she responded, “Well, I didn’t know!”

Indeed, she did not. And then I knew it was the latter.

After some time passed, she asked us if we wanted to help. We followed her into the back room, and there we saw rows of shelves, filled with long wooden trays, each stuffed with 30 or more tiny, tan envelopes. We had to open each envelope to check for a Mercedes key inside. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

I thought it would take us hours, but the 3rd tray I searched held a key to a Mercedes, and upon further inspection, I was able to see that the car had been brought in on June 11th, the day Sandy & Terry left. And, the number was 0-670, just one ticket off from the 0-696 ticket we had originally been given. It seemed like a fair match. They brought the car around and Hallelujah, it was indeed Sandy & Terry’s car!



We talked them into refunding the $19 valet charge for our trouble, and we were off. Our vacation had begun!