The commotion near the fuel pumps grew louder.
Rohit's attention drifted toward the source as he leaned forward to his car's window.
An elderly man stood beside an aging scooter, clutching the fuel receipt in one trembling hand.
His clothes were simple but clean. Nothing about him suggested poverty. Just another middle-class man trying to get through his day.
"I saw it with my own eyes!" the old man shouted.
"The meter wasn't reset!"
Several customers had already stopped to watch.
One attendant rolled his eyes dramatically.
"Here we go again."
"You people think every machine is cheating you."
The old man jabbed a finger toward the dispenser.
"Young man, the meter wasn't reset."
The attendant sighed dramatically.
"Sir, please. We've been doing this all day."
"I saw it clearly."
A few nearby customers glanced over.
The attendant looked toward his colleague and laughed.
"Every week there's one uncle who thinks the machine is cheating him."
The old man's face reddened.
