From the "Grrrrr" section of Foxnews.com

(This is really funny! I totally agree with this guy. I've encountered the nightclub valet before, and it is pretty weird. Why is this person there?)

Grrr! When You Gotta Go, You Gotta Tip!
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
By Mike Straka

There is a lot that I cannot do. Open heart surgery looks particularly hard. Ditto brain surgery, rocket science, heck, even simple algebra is over my head. But one thing I do know how to do, and very well I might add — all by myself — is go to the bathroom. So when I walk into a men's room at a fancy Manhattan steak house, the last thing I need is help. I don't need mouthwash, or Drakkar Noir or even a stick of gum.
And I certainly don't need someone to pump the handle on the paper towel dispenser three or four times for me. In short, I have no use for the bathroom valet.
None.
I don't want your cologne, or your Scope or your Doublemint gum. I don't even want your "How you doin'?" I just want to use the facilities in peace. I don't want to be guilted into throwing a dollar into your tip jar.
shouldn't have to give you money for something I can do very well on my own. You see, I'd rather give that money to my server or my sommelier. I need help in getting my food from the kitchen to my table. I'd like someone else to go into the wine cellar and retrieve the bottle I ordered, bring it to my table, pop the cork and then pour it into my glass.
But help in the john? No, thank you. Don't want it. Didn't request it. Don't even want to think about it.
It's bad enough that the bathroom can barely fit two people as it is, I don't need to be squeezing by the bathroom valet getting in and out. Nope. Not interested. No, siree.
And how does one apply for the job as the bathroom valet anyway? Do you think they walk in to a club or a restaurant with a resume full of references for the job? How does one even request the position?
"No, Mr. Manager, not interested in waiting on tables, cooking or even busing tables. What I really want to do is spend six hours in the men's room handing out paper towels and sticks of bubble gum to men who are in dire need of a urinal. Now that's how I want to contribute to society."
I don't really get it.
And then there's that awkward moment when you use the bathroom for a second time. You feel the need to announce loudly enough for everyone else to hear that you were already there and "I got you last time."
Not to mention that the last thing I'm thinking about as I'm heading to the facility is bringing my wallet with me, "for the bathroom valet." Heck, I barely carry cash anymore as it is. Next thing you know the valet will have a credit card machine for tips.
So to the bathroom valet, the concept of the bathroom valet, the nightclubs and restaurants that employ the bathroom valet and the society that makes the bathroom valet even conceivable, I say Grrr!