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."