The BMW salesman looked at Mary Carter’s worn farm dress, laughed in front of the entire showroom, and said, “Try the used-car lot. That’s more your speed.”

“They’re for transportation between our farm offices, warehouses, and town. I’d like to pay in full.”

Grant never stood from his chair.

“Ma’am, we don’t do fantasy shopping here. There’s a supermarket down the road, and a used lot past the highway. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

A receptionist stared at her computer screen.
Another salesman picked up his phone, pretending not to listen.
Behind the glass office, the sales manager watched everything and did nothing.

Mary looked at the three vehicles lined beneath the showroom lights. She had already checked their inventory online. She knew the trims, the delivery costs, and the exact total before she entered the building.

“Are you refusing to help me?” she asked.

Grant leaned back and folded his arms.

“I’m saving both of us time.”

Mary nodded once.

She did not argue.