Escape from the ROCC!

When I left work on Tuesday, I found that my car had been side-swiped in the church parking lot. The guilty woman left a nice note on my windshield. Now, there is a scrape/dent along the passenger side doors -- and my side mirror is hanging on by a wire. When I drive down the road, the mirror just dangles there knocking up against the door -- bump, bump, bump.

The timing wasn't so great for this to happen. For starters, I was planning on taking it in to CarMax soon and unloading the thing. (I'm just a few hundred miles from flipping it to 200,000 miles.) This is sure to take a few bucks off the offer price.

But the worst part for me? I had to drive it to the River Oaks Country Club.

I was attending the Distinguished Leader Award Luncheon honoring former Harris County Judge Robert Eckels. The crowd consisted of a "who's who" of city and county officials, business and community leaders, and so on. Most of them are people I've never met, but there were a few folks I knew from various places and experiences over my career.

As I entered the grounds, I asked the security guard if self-parking were available. Nope. So, I wouldn't be able to avoid the valet parking scene. Dropping off the car wasn't the problem -- not as many people standing around. It was the picking up that I dreaded.

When the last speaker approached the podium to deliver the closing remarks, I made an early escape out the service entrance, down some stairs, out a door, past the pool, back inside the clubhouse, down a hall, up some stairs, through the lobby, and out the front door to the valet stand. A few people were already gathered -- including two or three I knew. (Drats!)

I handed my valet ticket to a guy and he ran off to find my car. I've often wondered what valet drivers think when different cars pull up. Do they get excited when a really great car comes their way? Are they disappointed when they have to park a junker? Have they grown indifferent to it all? Why must they adjust the seat for a drive that lasts less than 60 seconds?

Waiting for my car to come around the corner, I observed the cars behind mine. Volvo. Mercedes. Land Cruiser. Jaguar. Thankfully, a small Toyota was thrown in to the mix. In part, it may have softened the blow when my dirty, dented, domestic car pulled up with the dangling mirror -- bump, bump, bump.

My sunglasses were in place to avoid accidental eye contact with members of the growing crowd waiting for their rides. When the car came to a stop, I dashed around to the driver's side, slipped the valet a tip, hopped in and drove away. Call me vain, but that's how it all went down.

Fortunately, as I drove away from the ROCC down River Oaks Boulevard past multi-million dollar estates, something fantastic occurred to me: maybe the onlookers assumed the valet damaged my car, and I was being ever-so-gracious by not complaining about it!