The first car to roam the rutted streets of L.A. was built here in 1897. Because of the paucity of traffic and the lack of hotels and restaurants, there was no need for valet parking.
But by 1946, there were many hotels and restaurants in the booming City of Angles, and a man named Herb Citron saw a need to make life a little easier for motorists driving to Lawry's restaurant on La Cienega, so he invented valet parking.
It is said that he wore a red jacket and a bowtie, among other apparel, of course, and was exceptionally polite to those who drove up in their shiny new postwar Fords and Chevrolets. Doing so, he went nationwide and became rich.
Today, venues including hospitals, supermarkets and even, possibly, the kind of places Heidi Fleiss used to operate, have valet services, none of whose employees to my knowledge wear red jackets and bowties.
They might not speak good English but are careful with the cars they park for people who would more willingly trust them with their wives than their Lamborghinis, Aston Martins or the occasional Pagani Zonda C12 F.
There are about 7 million cars in L.A., many of which are vying for parking spaces every day of the week, from dawn to sunset. Because public transportation is almost nonexistent, automobiles are the primary means of conveyance from your place to those scattered areas of nightlife that beckon like hookers in a doorway.
Every time I go out, I pray that wherever I am going, there is a valet waiting.
Thinking about the men and occasional women who park cars for a living, I was interested in talking to a clown named Matthew Morgan. I don't mean he's a goof-off. He has actually trained and worked as a clown. Now he parks cars at the lovely Art Deco hotel on Sunset Boulevard called Sunset Tower.
This is not a place where one who is just passing through normally spends the night. It is not Motel 6, where they leave the light on for you. It is a hotel of note where well-known people stay or dine and expect and receive exquisite service from those who park their cars.
Somehow, Morgan, who also acts and writes (doesn't everybody?), fits right in as one of the car parkers at the hotel. He's very, well, L.A. When I met him, he was juggling a cellphone, a pen and a Chapstick to demonstrate his facility as a professional clown. Even when he speaks, he gestures with both hands as though juggling invisible balls. He can also balance half a paper cup of soda on his forehead and tip it so the soda falls into his mouth, but it's risky and he decided not to try it.
