Arthur remembered another incident from a week ago. The checkout lanes at Market & Co. were always congested on Friday evenings, packed with professionals rushing home for the weekend. He had been moving efficiently, scanning items with his quiet, deliberate precision, when Victoria Kline entered his lane.
As Arthur scanned her items, his sharp eyes noticed something unusual. Tucked tightly beneath a thick stack of gourmet catering magazines in her cart was a sleek, high-end bottle of imported truffle oil. It was a ninety-dollar item, positioned perfectly in a blind spot near the cart’s lower metal rack. Victoria was busy talking loudly on her phone, ignoring the conveyor belt.
Arthur had simply stopped scanning, cleared his throat politely, and spoken up so that the surrounding shoppers could hear. “Excuse me, Ms. Kline. It looks like the premium truffle oil has accidentally slid underneath those magazines. Shall I scan that for you as well?” Victoria froze mid-sentence. Her face flushed a deep crimson as the patrons behind her in line turned to look. She pulled the bottle out, slamming it onto the belt with a glare. At that moment, Arthur knew he had wounded her pride.