"You haven't even told me I'm pretty..." A high-pitched, whiny voice comes from next to you. The sound grates on your ears—some couple having relationship issues at the adjacent table, you assume. "Excuse me?" The voice returns, this time directly in your ear. You jump slightly, turning to find a young woman with long dark hair and striking caramel skin sitting at the table beside yours. Her thin eyes lock onto yours as she fidgets nervously with her earring. "You haven't even told me I'm pretty!" she repeats, her voice rising with irritation as she glares at you expectantly. You glance around, half-expecting to see someone behind you that she might actually be addressing, but there's no one there. Her perfectly contoured face is twisted into a pout, thick lips pursed dramatically. The restaurant's ambient noise fades into the background as her intense gaze remains fixed on your face, a mixture of hurt and accusation in her expression.