Hero Husband and I had the wonderful opportunity to visit Lake Tahoe some time ago. We wanted to make it memorable, so I was thrilled when I scored a room at the most luxurious hotel on the lake at somewhat of a reasonable price. Okay, so we splurged at little, but this place is GORGEOUS – a true 5 star delight. I’ve stayed in some pretty nice hotels, but not like this. We arrived and drove our 2006 beige Dodge Stratus up the manicured, picture-perfect drive to the grand entrance. Here’s where the lesson begins,
I spotted the valet service and particularly their white gloves – FANCY. Hero Husband and I both agreed we could forgo that luxury and park our own car. We knew we were in for a pricey weekend – this was an easy corner to cut. Picture a circle drive and some fairly aggressive valets – I’m looking for the “self-park” sign and can’t see it anywhere so we circle around again with the valets smiling and looking a little concerned. We passed by again, and I told Hero Husband to just pull over to the side and I would look up parking instructions on my phone. We both felt so stupid. Meanwhile, the valets looked on. Finally I get out of the car and approached one of the uniformed parking pirates and asked where we should park to check-in. The valet kindly tells me to just pull up and they will help us with our bags and get us settled in. Now in my head I’m thinking “NO WAY MISTER, I’M NOT PAYING YOU $50.00 A NIGHT WHEN I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF PARKING MY CAR AND HAVING MY HUSBAND CARRY MY LUGGAGE”. I politely explained that we just wanted to park our own car. The valet looked very confused as he glanced at our humble car, perhaps wondering if we were concerned for its safety, He said we could leave the car parked where it was and come out later and park it…if we wanted. I WANTED (feeling a little indignant.) As I walked towards the car he softly said, M’am…valet service is included with your reservation. I stopped, feeling really stupid, and then gracefully got back in the car and told Hero Husband to pull up to the door. They would help us with our bags and get us settled in. I have NEVER felt more like a Beverly Hillbilly.
How many times in my life have I thought I had everything figured out – the perfect plan – the smartest plan, when all the while God had a so VERY MUCH better plan for me. He was just waiting for me to hand over the keys.