And the new valet stops me from blocking any other cars in (P2 is almost entirely double parked) so i can take the spot furthest from the elevator. he of course doesn't know i have fractures and torn tendons and cannot drive with my procare maxtrax ankle brace on, and that it is not good for my rehabilitation (feels like if you abbreviate it it's a definite drug/alcohol connotation) to stumble the entire length of a B.O.A. building to get to work when i'm of course, you guessed it, already 25 min late. he does this because he is lazy and doesn't want to bring my keys up to the 4th floor after he unblocks that fuckin' minicooper I wanted to block. AND/or he's too new to realize that Suite 400 mothafuckas aren't to be trifled with!
VALET: How you doing sir?
ME: (cavernous echo, slight smile) I'd be better if I wasn't parked so far away.
VALET: (uncomprehending) Good!
sigh
But I had no missed calls, so Ha. "Mission Accomplished" as some idiot once said.
fuck. this ain't never gonna heal. here we go road sox.
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