In a dark gray Toyota sedan. I share the back seat with a massive suitcase. The couple is middle eastern and when I enter, she is on the phone with her dad. He’s concerned that they won’t be there on time. She assures him they will. He’s concerned that she didn’t bring his shampoo. She complains that he didn’t tell her to bring his shampoo, but reassures him that they can buy his shampoo once they’re there. She tells him they love him and hang up. The deconstruction of this short conversation continues for a while in a language I can’t parse so I just have to listen to its flow and unfamiliar phonemes. When it finally concludes, she calls a contractor and leaves a voice mail, explaining that they have an alarm now and not to touch any of the doors in the house. She hangs up. Again, a deconstruction conversation that I can’t understand. She gets a little heated. He’s stoic and reassuring. With her pearl bracelet, fat pearl ring, white sunglasses (even though it’s overcast), strong jaw, and hair pulled up in a magenta plastic clip, physically she brings to mind Sarah Palin, of all people. He with his carpet hairy arms, short sleeve soft polo, glasses, and shorts (even though it’s cold out), reminds me of Eugene Levy. They get back into some more deconstruction where she goes for a long time, occasionally making broad pearl-clacking gestures, occasionally touching his arm, and I imagine she is trying to make an insane case why she should be in his next movie. He is trying to minimize interaction until he can get out of the car.