My BFF Kristen and I step away from the front desk and before we make our way over to the valet station, which is within earshot, I motion her to me.
“Hey, I’d rather we put our stuff in the car than have them do it,” I whisper. “I’m mostly worried about my laptop.”
“I get it, but mine is from work, so I don’t care about it as much,” she says.
I don’t want to be a jerk and ask the valet if we can carry our own stuff. It’s a dead giveaway that I don’t trust him with my things, but I like to think if he were in the same position, he’d understand. Would he want a stranger walking away with so much of his life’s possessions? Pictures, videos, important documents, intellectual property, creative work and so much more?
Sure I have my work backed up, you can’t access my laptop without a password and some of my most important documents are password-protected, but it doesn’t matter. My laptop is still valuable to me and I need peace of mind to know it’s okay.
Am I paranoid? A little. Am I the only one? Definitely not. Few things would cause me such concern like my laptop. I’d have no problem giving him my luggage, but my laptop is a different story.
As we approach the counter, I try to think of reasons why I have to be the one who puts my things in the car. Nothing comes to mind. I’m already feeling guilty before doing anything wrong and then we arrive at the counter.
He asks which car we’re in and then, as though he’s living in my mind, he hands us the keys. For some reason, he’s not going to whisk our stuff away. We are.
From a customer service standpoint, a lot of people would be pissed, but in my eyes, we’ve hit the jackpot.
After all the mistrust (and stories I’ve created in my head), I got what I wanted. To keep my belongings in sight.
When we get to the car, I load our suitcases and my laptop bag in the trunk. Then, Kristen who’s known me for over 30 years says the magic words. “You can put the blankets over your laptop bag, if you want.”
Oh, I want, Kristen. I want and I do.