Sunday, 16 October 2005 | Formality

I don't understand the valet system in Los Angeles. It's a formality, it seems, rather than a practicality, since I was often required to walk past my (rented) car and wait in line just to be allowed to retrieve it. Upon receiving the vehicle, which was presented to me with all its doors open like a splayed out Swiss Army knife, I would then have to awkwardly place a couple dollars in the valet's palm in exchange for the "service." I was tempted to ask whether I could pay to him up front and just take the keys, but I hate being difficult more than I hate the valet system, so I kept quiet.

It was while standing in a valet line that I saw Topher Grace, one of the six or so celebrities that were pointed out to me while I was in LA. I only saw one of them on my own, Bill Murray, who stood out because he was wearing a bright pink shirt and was standing right in front of me. Occasionally I reported to Todd that I might've seen someone famous, a conclusion based only on what I considered to be a person's distinguished look, and the fact that one in five people in LA is a major star. (right?) When Todd inevitably asked who it was I'd seen, I could only tell him that the stranger had a certain Tom Waits look about him, but I had no idea which famous person it was. Todd, on the other hand, recognized people I'd never heard of, and spotted them even when he was looking the other way.