The easing of strained relations is not apt to occur when it comes to using the valet parking service.
He is absolute in his refusal to relinquish the parking of his beloved car. Rain, snow or ice is not a consideration in his decision.
She would use the valet parking service at the supermarket if it were available. She is similarly passionate in defense of her achy, wet or cold feet and bad hair.
With grinding teeth he acquiesced and handed the valet attendant the keys. His lip quivered as the driver climbed in and pushed the seat back far enough to accommodate a NBA player. He watched until the tail lights faded from sight, sighed, and turned to her with a stormy “I told you so” expression on his face.
She ignores his discomfort. If he thinks he is uncomfortable, he should try hiking three miles from the parking lot in shoes made strictly for admiring. Given the state of his sparsely populated crown, he cannot relate to weather related hairdo disasters.
Waiting for his beloved car leaves him as anxious as waiting for a kidnapped baby during a ransom exchange. He grimaces as squealing brakes hail the arrival of his beloved automobile. The AC/Heat and radio are blaring full blast as the attendant opens the door.
The attendant takes note of their car’s license plate number as the tinkle of coins resonates in his hand.
She struggles to open the car door that said attendant ordinarily would thrust open post haste, had paper, not metal crossed his palms.
He: Coins are the reward for abuse of the car.
She: Paper is the preventative for abuse of auto.
And so it goes…….
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.