When I went downstairs to pick up my takeout, I spotted it right away.
But just as I was about to leave, someone snatched the food from my hands.
I looked at the red mark on my palm, not even having time to get angry, when she glared at me with disgust and shouted, “Were you trying to steal someone’s takeout?! Did you steal mine yesterday too?”
Everyone’s strange looks converged on me. My face flushed, and I panicked a little as I hurried to explain, “This is my takeout!”
She didn’t believe me. Holding the bag, she examined it closely and called out, “Your takeout? You were going to take it without even looking! And you still dare to lie?! Is the person whose order ends in 1787 here? Come claim your food!”
More and more people gathered to watch. They all pointed at me, their eyes full of disgust.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed her, pulled up my order history on my phone, and shouted, “If I didn’t steal your takeout, you have to apologize to me!”
