Arthur rested his walking stick against the counter and placed a folded document beside it. He had waited patiently for his turn. Now he needed someone to check his account.
Derek glanced at his faded jacket before looking at the paper.
“You can’t walk in here demanding things,” he said. “This bank isn’t a charity.”
Arthur kept his voice steady. “I’m asking you to check my account. Nothing more.”
“You’re wasting everyone’s time. Please leave.”
A customer behind Arthur stopped searching through her handbag. Across the lobby, another employee looked up.
Arthur slid his identification forward.
“You haven’t even checked who I am.”
Derek left the card untouched. “I don’t need to. People like you always think the rules don’t apply to them.”
Arthur paused, then drew his documents back.
“Then let your manager decide.”
Before Derek could answer, a woman approached from the offices.
“Derek, what exactly is happening here?”
“He refuses to leave. I was handling it.”
The manager looked at Arthur, then at the identification still lying on the counter. Her expression changed.
“Do you understand whose account you just refused to check?”
Derek said nothing.
“Mr. Arthur owns this bank.”
The teller straightened. Suddenly, he reached for the card he had ignored.
“I’m sorry, sir. I made a mistake.”
Arthur gently held up one hand.
“You judged me by my appearance. Respect every person, even when you think they have nothing.”
The manager offered to assist him privately, but Arthur stayed at the counter.
“The same service as everyone else will be fine.”
Derek nodded quietly and began the account check.
When Arthur left, the next customer approached in a work uniform, carrying a small envelope of coins.
Derek pulled out a chair for her.
This time, he offered a welcome before asking for a name.