A Cold Reception
The older man rested his hand on the dark metallic paint of the luxury SUV while the salesman crossed his arms.
Standing in his tailored grey suit, the young salesman looked down at the customer’s brown tweed jacket and dark trousers. He shook his head slowly, taking a small step back.
“Sir, this is a luxury dealership,” the salesman said, resting one hand near his tie. “Maybe you’re looking for something more affordable.”
The customer stood still, keeping his hands low while watching the younger man speak. He did not blink or shift his feet.
“That car costs more than most houses,” the salesman added, tilting his chin upward. “I don’t think it’s for you.”
Stepping Away
Without saying a word, the elderly customer turned away from the black SUV. He walked slowly across the white marble floor tiles toward the center of the showroom.
The salesman followed close behind, extending one hand out to guide him toward the entrance doors.
“Why don’t I show you something more in your range?” the salesman asked, sweeping his arm toward the smaller models near the corner.
The older man stopped near a silver sedan, resting his fingertips against the clean glass of the display case nearby.
A Turn Of Events
Before the salesman could point toward the exit, high heels clicked rapidly against the marble floor.
A woman dressed in a dark blue trousersuit emerged from the back offices. She walked through the glass double doors, holding a clip of documents under her arm.
Her gaze locked onto the older customer, and her feet stopped instantly. Her posture adjusted, and she lowered her papers to her side.
“Sir! You’re here!” she said, stepping forward with her palm open in greeting. “Why didn’t anyone inform me?”
The older man looked over at her, then pointed a thumb back at the salesman standing behind him.
“I was just being helped,” the older man stated in a measured tone. “He suggested I might not afford them.”
Consequences On The Showroom Floor
The manager’s eyes narrowed as she turned her head toward the young employee. Her mouth set into a firm, flat line.
“You’re done here,” she said, raising one finger toward the back office corridor. “We do not judge customers by their appearance. Collect your things and leave.”
The salesman’s face went completely pale. His jaw slackened slightly, and his arms dropped limply to his sides.
He turned his body around and walked slowly toward his desk in the rear corner. A minute later, he reappeared carrying a brown cardboard box, keeping his gaze fixed on his shoes as he crossed the lobby.
The manager turned back to the guest, bowing her head slightly in respect.
The older man walked past her toward a bright red Ferrari positioned near the front window. He tapped the red hood with his index finger.
“I’ll take this one,” he said.
He pulled the wide driver side door open, bent his knees, and lowered himself into the leather interior before pulling the door shut.
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