We stayed in a hotel in downtown Chicago. This place, which I will not name, was not only non-smoking, but smoker-hostile and smug about it.
So, late in the cold, windy weather, I bundle up and go out front to smoke before I go to bed. Two gentlemen are there already, one smoking, one standing behind the valet podium. The man behind the podium had something that caused him to spasm regularly — perhaps ALS, perhaps MS, I thought it unkind to ask. Soon, this person asked the one already smoking for a light. It took them several tries, including one discarded cigarette, but they got the job done.
Then the other smoker finished up and went in.
Then, a car pulled up.
The driver and his wife got out. She went inside, while he gathered up things to take in, all the while watching the two of us smoke. I was standing off to the side, while our spasming friend was back behind the valet podium.
The driver then came up to me, and whispered:
Are you the valet?
The only thing I could do was to shake my head no, and smile an almost-evil smile.