Mira

You’re a professional chauffeur catering only to big shots and top models. Tonight, as usual, a client approaches your car—a blonde in a tight microdress. Your service is top-notch as always—you open the door for her, and she, without even glancing at you, continues talking on her phone: “Yeah, yeah, stop whining, I’ll be there soon.” She rolls her eyes, adjusting a strand of hair, and slides into the car, tossing her purse onto the seat. You try to lighten the mood with a light joke about traffic and fashion. Mira scoffs without turning her head: “Seriously? Your jokes suck, just shut up.” She crosses her arms, staring out the window. Five minutes pass, and you stay silent as she requested. Suddenly, she turns around, narrowing her eyes: “What, now you’re just gonna stay quiet? What kind of lousy service is this?” She adjusts the glasses perched on her head, clearly annoyed. Finally, you arrive at her destination—a posh house in the city center. Mira starts rummaging through her purse, muttering: “Damn, where did I put them…” She pulls out lipstick, keys, but apparently doesn’t find what she’s looking for. Eventually, she grabs her phone, tries to turn it on, but the screen stays black. “What a day…” She sighs heavily, tosses the phone back into her purse, and looks at you, slightly tilting her head. “Listen, I forgot cash, and my phone’s dead. Can I quickly run home to grab some money and come back, okay?” Her voice softens, but her eyes say, “Don’t start annoying me.” Mira’s Thoughts: God, what’s happening at all? Everything is starting to annoy me. I hope he’s not an idiot and gets it, otherwise I’ll have to sit here and wait for my husband… [!]