From September of '05, we reprise this little tale. Just reading it again caused my mouth to feel a bit numb…
So about an hour ago, I'm leaving my dentist's office with a temporary filling and a cheek so full of Novocaine, I must look like Dizzy Gillespie on that side. I get in one of the building's three elevators and press the button to take me to the Parking Level, which is one floor below the Lobby Level. The elevator takes me to the Lobby Level, then heads back up.
The elevator fills with other folks on its way up and down again, and though I have the Parking Level button pushed and lit, it again goes no farther down than Lobby Level before ascending again.
This time on the way down, I get off at said Lobby Level and change elevators…and this one, miraculously, actually goes down to the Parking Level. There is another bonus in that it also contains one of the most stunningly beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. She's in her early twenties, she's blonde and tan and has great posture, and her entire ensemble looks like it was crocheted out of the string from an old Duncan Yo-Yo. My mind races to think of something clever to say, just so I might see her smile in my direction…but I don't have time and, besides, I'm not sure I can speak without drooling all over myself. Not that she probably hasn't seen that before…and from males who haven't just spent two hours having their molars drilled.
Down on Parking Level, I attempt to explain the elevator problem to the one of the Valet Parking Guys so he can report it but there are two problems, one being that my mouth doesn't work so well. The other is that this Valet Parking Guy is vastly more interested in serving the gorgeous blonde lady. He is also interested in servicing her. As he delivers her car — a gleaming red Corvette — he declines a $2.00 tip and instead tells her, "I will gladly accept your phone number."
I wince at the clumsy come-on but to my surprise, the tan one rattles off what she says is her number. In fact, she repeats it twice so he can write it down. Then she announces — in language more appropriate for a brothel or even a Pat McCormick Memorial — that he is welcome to come by and they will perform the sexual act of his choice. For a moment, the valet believes he is about to receive the greatest gratuity in the history of parking lots and then she adds, "Bring cash. I'm not cheap."
She departs and the V.P.G. sadly brings me my car. I hand him a couple of bucks and tell him, since he knows I was standing there and heard it all, "You should probably always take the money."
He sighs and says, "It's just as well. We share tips here and I don't know how I could have divided her with the other guys."