Tuesday, November 11, 2003

Shoplifting

"Excuse me, ma'am, may I please look in your purse?"

Elmira looked quizically at the young store clerk. "What? Why do you want to look in my purse?"

"Please, just step back here, ma'am, and hand me your purse," the store clerk gently but sternly insisted. He motioned with his hand and ushered the elderly woman back through the exit door.

"I don't understand this; what is going on?" Elmira asked.

Lowering his voice, the store clerk began, "Please, ma'am . . . ."

"No, don't try to placate me, young man, tell me what it is you want." Elmira's volume grew with her frustration.

The young man looked around and saw the other patrons beginning to glance curiously in his direction. The consternation on his face added twenty years to his youthful appearance. "Let's not make a scene, ma'am. I think there may just be a misunderstanding."

"Who's making a scene? You're making a scene, harassing an old woman," Elmira scolded. Then condescendingly she ordered, "Let me see your manager."

He nervously glanced around the store again and noticed several people staring. "I am the manager." You'd better be right about this, he thought to himself.

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