The salesman’s gaze sharpened. He looked at the man’s boots—worn but clean. His jacket—aged but well kept. No obvious designer branding. No Rolex flashing from his wrist.
“This model starts at $120,000,” the salesman said carefully, as if explaining something fragile to a child. “Just making sure you don’t waste our time.”
A faint chuckle echoed from the espresso bar.
“I’m aware,” the man answered.
The salesman nodded slowly. The kind of nod that hides disbelief.
“If I may offer some advice,” he continued, lowering his voice slightly, “There are other dealerships in the city that might be more… practical. More suited for someone like you.”
A younger employee pretended to organize brochures while listening closely.
The man tilted his head. “Accessible?”
“More realistic,” the salesman corrected smoothly. “Not everyone needs to stretch beyond their range.”
The air shifted. It wasn’t loud mockery. It was something subtler—assumption.