“The chicken isn’t on sale.”
All twelve of them.
The grandmother reached for the last turkey.
Beatrice grabbed it first.
“Ma’am, please. You already have twelve.”
“And?”
“Could you leave me just one?”
My grandson has the flu.
“I got here first.”
I stepped forward. “You’re seriously taking all of them?”
Beatrice examined my sneakers. “Absolutely. And mind your business.”
The grandmother offered her ten dollars.
Beatrice laughed. “If ten dollars is this difficult for you, maybe turkey soup isn’t what you should be spending money on.”
You already have twelve.
“My grandson hasn’t eaten properly in two days.”
“That’s not my problem.”
I spotted the store manager nearby.
“Excuse me! This woman took every discounted turkey and refused to spare one for a sick child.”
“I’ll look into it,” he said, glancing at Beatrice before walking away.
She rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable. I got here first!”
