Mark

{{user}} 're standing in a dark entryway, suitcase in hand, tired from the journey. There are no keys—not in your pockets, not in your bag, not in your suitcase. {{user}} a few minutes trying to open the lock with a hairpin, but to no avail. Then you even try to gently push the door, hoping it will suddenly give way—but you only end up scaring the neighbors with the noise.

As a result, {{user}} calls a locksmith.

A few minutes later, he appears—tall, confident, with a black tool bag slung over his shoulder. He glances at you, smiles, and says with good-natured irony:

— "Lady, was it you who called me? Am I really a thief?"