Silent Graves

"Of course, you too!" waved a mare, stepping out of the restaurant. "Taxi!"

In short order, a cab stopped for her and picked her up. "Where are you headed, ma'am?"

"Number three hundred and six, Stirrup street."

"Right away, ma'am."

As the taxi rushed off into the street, the mare pulled out a notebook and pencil and began scrawling frantically. There was a lot of information that had to be written down right away.

As they were caught in traffic and unable to move, the driver turned around to look at his customer. She was a tall unicorn with a dark blue coat and a curly platinum blonde mane. "I haven't seen you around before. You new to the city?"

"I've been living here for months," she answered, her voice having dropped a bit deeper. "I move around a lot for my job, but I recently bought a house here for my time off."

"Oh yeah? What do you do for a living?"

"I write for a regional news outlet based in San Palomino. I just came back from there last week."

"Fun place. Any articles I might have read?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm the reason restaurants rise, and I am also the reason they fall. If you eat out a lot, you've probably seen my work." She put down her notebook and opened up her shoulder bag. "I need to change my dress really quick, so I'm going to draw the privacy curtain. Please try to avoid any bumps."

With a nod, the driver took off again as the traffic cleared. He took very good care of his clients, as he wanted them to remain his clients for a long time to come. His name, after all, was displayed in the rear cabin, and even one bad report could be his undoing, especially if it came from somepony as important as a restaurant critic. He could see his name in the paper now, detailing the way he said certain things that were considered foul. He had to be careful if he was going to avoid that fate.

He came to a stop at the requested address. "We're here, ma'am."

The curtain came aside, and a whole new pony stepped out. Her cyan dress had turned red, as might be expected, but her mane had changed, too. It was short, brown, and balding. Her face almost resembled that of a stallion. "I'll just be a minute, then I'll need transport again," she said. "Wait right here."

Leaving the bag, she grabbed her leftovers and rushed into the house, coming back thirty seconds later without them. Having a better look, the cabby was certain now that he was escorting a cross-dressing stallion. "Where to next?"

"Café by the River on Twenty-Fourth street south."

As the cab took off again, the privacy curtain was closed. They came to a stop at the drawbridge, on the wrong side of the river to their destination. The privacy curtain came open again, and the only things that hadn't changed were the coat colour, eye colour, and build. Now, her mane was straight and black, with a tail to match. she'd even changed her makeup.

"If I may so bold, why the disguise?" asked the driver. "Certainly, if they knew who you were, the owners of the restaurant would give you premium service. After all, whenever we're carrying somepony important, we make extra sure that we don't hit any potholes. Surely restaurant owners think similarly?"

"They certainly do," the 'mare' agreed. "It used to be that whenever I was around, they would watch me eat to make sure I was enjoying the best of their best. Then one day I saw the table next to me not receiving any service. Their waiter had blown them off to focus on me so I would give a good review. It was scathing when it came to service. As such, I decided that I would pass myself off as a common pony and become unrecognizable, so I can see just how they treat everypony else. If wearing a common pony's face will give me a more accurate idea of how they treat everypony that isn't a critic, I can save my readers the disappointment that must come when I'm eating at the next table over."

"Does that work?"

"If you treat all of your customers like you would treat, let's say Sapphire Shores, then they will love you for it, and they'll send good reports to your boss. If one of your customers was Sapphire Shores in disguise, and you treated her poorly because you didn't recognize her, you'd certainly face repercussions for splashing her with a puddle of water on the side of the road. Do you see what I mean?"

"I suppose so. It makes sense when you put it that way. But why a mare? Surely, you could dress up as a stallion and receive just as good a treatment?"

"It's one more degree of separation. They're expecting a tall blue unicorn stallion, but when you show up as a mare, they just think you're another customer. It's an easier thing to hide than dying my coat five times a week."

As the driver nodded again, the bridge came back down and they were free to cross. After that, it was a short trip to the restaurant.

The critic disembarked from the cab, taking her purse with her. "Here's what I owe, plus a little extra for the smooth ride," she said in a sultry falsetto, closer to how she sounded on pickup than she had over the bridge.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Now, you remember what we talked about. If ever I'm in need of a cab again, and I find you specifically, we can catch up and see how far you've come on your own."

"Y-yes ma'am." The way the driver was pulling away made it very clear that he was unsure how to handle being offered such a proposition by somepony he knew was a stallion.

With some batting of his fake eyelashes and a coquettish giggle, the critic waved and walked off into the café. "Hey there. Table for two, please. My coltfriend should be here in a few minutes."

"Of course, Madame," smiled the host. "Right this way."