The couple across from me look like money. In my line of work you learn to spot the subtle signs. In this case it’s not necessary though, I don’t need to look down to know their luggage will be Louis Vuitton.
Their hair looks sharp. Sharp like it would cut you. Hers is like a straight razor, his like the serrated side of a combat knife.
They sit at a table that has a flickering light bulb above it. Barely perceptible. After a second and without a word, they rise and move.
These people are not used to discomfort.