Style

I pulled up outside a betting shop, to pick up a customer. A good looking man appeared at my driver side window. I pressed the button, and my window whizzed down.
“Are you here for me?” he said hopefully.
“Possibly,” I smiled. “Where are you going to?”
He named an area of Norwich.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I’m booked to go to Dereham Road.”
The man looked disappointed.
“What a shame,” he said. “I saw your beautiful hair, and hoped you had come for me.”
With that, he took his car keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and drove away.

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