"Excuse me," Richard said. His voice was sharp like a knife. "This piano is not for people like you. The cheap keyboards are in the back of the store."
Marcus looked up at the younger man. He did not show any anger on his face. He had faced men like Richard before: men who thought money made them better than others, men who looked at clothes instead of character.
"I was just looking," Marcus said quietly. "It is a beautiful instrument."
Richard laughed. It was not a kind laugh. It was the laugh of a man who enjoyed making others feel small.
"Beautiful? What would you know about beautiful things?" Richard looked at Marcus from head to toe. He looked at the paint stains, the old boots, the rough hands. "This piano costs $150,000. Do you even know what that means?"
Marcus did not answer. He just kept looking at the Steinway. His eyes were soft, almost sad. He was remembering something, something from a lifetime ago.
Around them, other people had started to notice. Today was a special day at the showroom. Richard was hosting a private event for wealthy collectors. Men and women in expensive clothes were drinking champagne and looking at rare pianos. They had all turned to watch the strange scene.
A woman in a pearl necklace whispered to her husband, "Who let that man in here?"
A man in a gray suit shook his head. "This is embarrassing."
Richard enjoyed the attention. He liked showing his power in front of his rich customers. It made him feel important. He decided to push further.
"I heard you say something about the hammer voicing," Richard said loudly. He wanted everyone to hear. "You think you know about pianos? You probably do not even know which end makes the sound."
Some people in the crowd laughed. They thought it was funny: a poor old man pretending to know about fine instruments.