that makes my blood boil. Between his screams, the kid glances at his mom, and I catch him smirk for just a split second before going back to crying. Your son seems to be quite the performer, I say loudly. The mom's face flushes red. How dare you suggest my child is faking? Right on cue, the kid peeks at the crowd through his fingers, clearly checking if people are still watching his performance. The mom realizes some people are catching on and gets even more desperate. She starts approaching other customers directly. Excuse me, she says to a young couple. Would you tell this woman to give my son the game system? It's his birthday. The couple exchanges uncomfortable glances and quickly walks away. She comes back to me with renewed aggression. I'm not leaving without that game system, she hisses quietly, so only I can hear. I will make this as difficult as possible for you. She starts following me as I try to head toward the checkout, narrating loudly to anyone who'll listen. She's walking away from a crying child, on his birthday! But now more people are noticing his performance because he keeps peeking to see reactions. She makes one final desperate play, approaching the security guard again. Can't you make her sell it to us? There must be some store policy about helping customers. The guard sighs, clearly tired of this situation. Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to either make a purchase or leave the store. This is outrageous, she shouts. I'm calling corporate. I'm posting about this online. That's when a teenager working in electronics finally shows up, drawn by all the commotion. The mom immediately pounces on him. This woman stole the last Nintendo
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