Got Any Tips?
On Saturday nights, the driveway of Hollywood’s Sunset Room club and restaurant becomes a clogged artery of late-model automotive privilege. Below, we document the struggles of 36-year-old Lala Amina Nil, a valet for California Parking Services, as she keeps the BMWs purring and the SUVs moving.
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8:30 p.m. Nil slides into new black Lexus belonging to middle-aged couple blissing out to The Wave. She gets to end of driveway before a reporter timidly points out that emergency brake is on. Nil pulls into parking lot around the corner and backs into spot 321.
8:35 p.m. Nil jaywalks across Cahuenga Boulevard.
8:55 p.m. In black Celica, Nil locates emergency brake under empty smoothie cup.
9:03 p.m. A guy wearing a polka-dot tie and holding a clipboard allows Nil past velvet rope so that she can use the ladies’ room.
9:15 p.m. “We’re on the guest list, who do we see?” asks one in a pack of nervous 40ish guys dressed in matching all-black ensembles. Nil points toward entrance.
9:40 p.m. Traffic jam in Cahuenga parking lot. Nil, in candy apple red BMW, is stuck behind black Volvo. Silver Infiniti on her tail.
10:20 p.m. Via cell phone, Nil speaks to her 16-year-old son in Arabic.
10:24 p.m. Nil pulls another valet out of the path of an oncoming Porsche Carrera.
10:37 p.m. “Wow, it’s full,” says Nil, driving white Mitsubishi to lot roof. Multiple bottles of prescription pills rattle on dash.
10:42 p.m. Nil gets new supply of claim tickets as a guy brags to friends: “I’ve got two girls waiting at my house. Everything’s big.”
11:01 p.m. Nil approaches silver Volvo, from which Val Kilmer, in suede hip-huggers, emerges. Alas, another valet beats her to it.
11:02 p.m. Two women in little dresses hand over claim ticket. Buttercup from “The Powerpuff Girls” cartoon dangles from their key chain.
11:07 p.m. Nil doesn’t receive a tip after turning over the Buttercups’ soot-covered Jetta.
11:12 p.m. Nil opens driver door of arriving Mercedes. Her colleague accepts $6 fee. “Kim, what kind of parking did you get?” the passenger asks the driver. “First class? Front row?”
11:59 p.m. Nil retrieves keys for gray-haired man sucking green-apple lollipop with two women in tow.
12 a.m. “Ai yay yay!” exclaims Nil as she attempts to squeeze past the partially blocked door of the candy man’s Chevrolet Tahoe Limited. She enters on passenger side and climbs over seat.
12:40 a.m. With gentle commands such as “move it up” and “more, more, more,” Nil keeps things rolling in the driveway.
1:15 a.m. Nil can’t disable alarm on monster Cadillac SUV in rear VIP lot. Eventually she manages to stop siren and blinking headlights. Steering wheel won’t budge.
1:23 a.m. Reporter yawns. But Nil, who expects to retrieve cars until 2:30 or 3 a.m., is accustomed to the hours. “Even on Sunday and Monday, my days off,” she says, “I don’t sleep.”
