<strong>Tisha Magnessen, renting a car</strong><br/><br/>Tisha Magnessen's heels were ticking in a rapid rhythm on the tiled floor as she walked toward the rental desk, pulling a medium-sized rolling suitcase behind her. She was clothed in a rather strict business outfit made of a long skirt, a white blouse, with a green-and-blue scarf loosely hanging around her neck. She was wearing medium-heeled, closed shoes.<br/><br/>An overweight couple was walking towards the desk as well, each pulling two huge suitcases. They had almost reached the counter but Trisha feigned not to see them and went directly to the front desk, passing them by in her fast-paced gait. The man coughed and then said, "Excusez-moi Mademoiselle, mais je crois que nous étions avant vous..."<br/><br/>Tisha slowly turned her head, looking at the overweight guy over her shoulder. She addressed him a seductive glance and a confident smile before answering in an English tinted with some northern accent, "I'm sorry sir, but I have a golden pass, and moreover, I hate waiting." She was brandishing a glistening golden card.<br/><br/>Then, without according the baffled man any more attention, in spite of the angry whispers his wife was addressing him, Tisha pushed the golden card and a sheet of printed paper over the desk to the attendant.<br/><br/>"Hello. My name is Trisha Magnessen. I have booked a car for one week. A sport cart. I want it fast, I hate slowness, both in actions and in minds."<br/><br/>She was looking at the desk attendant with a haughty air while ticking her nails on the counter impatiently.