Miss Susan The Artist
I had noticed a young unaccompanied Asian lad who wandered over to the snacks table on more than one occasion and seemed to study it more than eat from it. He would then wander off a few steps and engage a piece of art or two, and then back to the table.
I watched until his behavior bored me and looked about in other directions. When my eyes next returned to him he was once again over by the table, this time bending over at the waist and appearing to study the underside of it. I continued to watch.
All of a sudden his plan was put into action. In one continuous movement he pulled out from below the table two of the shopping bags that we had carried in, supplies still in them. He then swept a number of items off the table and into the bags. Finished with the filling, he grabbed a bag in each hand and dashed for the exit, bounding down the stairs three steps at a time. Out into the night he went, his weekend grocery shopping finished. Chasing him seemed like a feckless adventure. He needed the food more than we did. I poured each of us a new glass of wine and we toasted his d