The Purse Was Left Inside
Out on the sidewalk, it suddenly hit me—I’d left my purse inside. Without hesitation, I turned back toward the entrance, determined to retrieve it. The crowd had started to thin, but the whispers hadn’t; every step I took was accompanied by hushed voices and curious stares. Even outside, people were eager to dissect the drama. Bracing myself for another possible confrontation, I walked back toward the door, uncertain how the staff would respond this time—but my resolve was clear. I wasn’t leaving without my belongings.
The Purse Was Left Inside
Derek’s Egotistical Interruption
Just as I reached for the door, Derek stepped in front of me, blocking my path with a smug grin. “Don’t worry about any ‘unpaid bills,’” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “consider it on the house.” The irony was almost laughable—here I was, the actual owner, being patronized like an unwelcome guest. It was surreal, but I chose not to bite. “Just let me get my purse,” I replied calmly, keeping my tone steady despite the rising frustration.
Derek’s Egotistical Interruption
