Roman
"You look like Brad Pitt."
An older man says behind me, smiling at me through the mirror. He winks at me and gets closer, washing his hands in the sink.
"Can I have your number?"
"Sorry." I chew gum. "I'm into Angelina Jolie."
"She's one lucky woman." He chuckles. "I would move mountains to have a man like you."
The strange guy slips his card into the pocket of my leather jacket and walks away. It's kind of hilarious and horrific how vain human beings are. He would move mountains just to be with a man like me? A man he met seconds ago? What if I'm a thief? What if I'm a ràpist? What if I'm a pèdophile? What if I'm a serial killer?
I take a step back and stare at myself in the mirror. I straighten the collar of my leather jacket and run my fingers through my blonde wig. The gu
