“I’m sorry, but it’s company policy.” The friendly middle-aged man behind the counter at the cell-phone store blinked at her. He reminded her a little of a frog with over-round eyes and an equally round face. The fact that his shirt was the color of algae probably didn’t help. His name badge read Steve. She didn’t like Steve at the moment.
“But I told you, I’ve lost my ID.” Not exactly true, but close enough.
“There must be an exception to the rule,” David said, resting a hand on her arm. “People lose their wallets and phones all the time. You don’t refuse to replace them all, so what’s the catch?”
“No catch.” Steve pointed to the sign over the back counter. “It’s our policy.”
“Hold on,” Bonnnie said. “If I requested a new phone online they wouldn’t need my ID to mail it to me, would they?”
Steve blinked again as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “I suppose they wouldn’t.”
“So we can just approach it that way,” David clarified.
