I arrive at your flat at five o'clock sharp. I get out of the Town Car and come around to the rear door to greet you, but you breeze past me leaving me standing there, alone with the bags. Cell phone glued to your ear, you barely notice me as you climb in. I store your luggage in the boot and we drive off into the evening traffic. I glance over at the pickup order on my clipboard: Airport, International Terminal.
"No.....no.....NO!" you yell, to the unfortunate soul on the other end of the phone. The car winds through the tree-lined streets of this affluent neighborhood as I head for the expressway. "DAMMIT, you're just fucking useless, aren't you? We'll have to talk about your future with me when I return."
I feel a sharp *THUMP* against the back of my seat, and can only assume that it was your cellular phone, hurled away in disgust. Thank God it's a short drive, I think, eyes carefully avoiding the rearview, for fear of incurring some of your wrath.
"You there, what's your name? You're not my regular driver."
Shit, almost made it. I look at you in the mirror, "No ma'am, I'm Michael. Your regular driver was called away on a family emergency."
"Well, at least you're better looking than that old fossil....I think they kept sending me him because he was deaf; he didn't have to deal with me"
The car rolls on along the highway and then off onto the access road that skirts the Airport flight lines. "Michael, is it? Can you pull over in that clearing there? There seems to be something wrong with the Air Conditioning back here."
I pull the sedan over into a clearing designed for aviation enthusiasts to watch planes arrive and depart and walk around to the back door. As I open it, I am shocked to see you, leaning back in the corner of the seat, blouse unbuttoned to your waist and skirt hiked, showing your gauzy red lingerie.
"Just look at me, Michael. I'm roasting back here.....I need you to fix it for me."
Shit! Is this the same woman that got in my car twenty minutes ago? Is this really something that I would consider...?
You lean forward quickly and grab me by my necktie, pulling me into the backseat, on top of you. "My idiot assistant booked me on the wrong flight and now I have two hours to kill before takeoff. You can think of a better way for me to spend that time than sitting in the airport lounge, can't you?"