The Case of the Shopping Swindler

A Whole Foods market opened in my neighborhood, so I popped in to see what all the fuss was about. Within 30 seconds of entering the store, I found myself staring at an ostrich egg big enough to make an omelet that would feed 17 people.

I turned to the man standing next to me to crack a joke about the store’s exotic fare only to find him delicately holding a small blue robin’s egg.

“My wife asked me to get some small eggs,” he said, noticing me noticing him. “But this seems ridiculous. Are you an egg specialist?”

“No. The only thing I know about eggs is not to count them before they’re hatched, even though I still do to make sure there are a dozen in the carton,” I said. “I’m actually in insurance.”

“Sweet,” the man said, looking around to see if anyone was watching. “Then can you help me steal this $24 jar of organic, fair trade-certified, hand-selected, shade-grown, non-hydrogenated cashew butter?”

I didn’t know what was more offensive—this stranger asking me to aid and abet his misdemeanor or that the jar of fancy cashew butter cost more than my shoes.

“Sir, I shall do no such thing!”

“Ah, come on, I know all you insurance guys are crooks at heart,” he taunted.

“Why would you assume something like that?”

“Because my agent is helping me scam ‘the man.’ You see, we have three cars and three drivers, one being my son, a 20-year old college student. Our sly agent suggested we could lower the premium by adding our 26-year-old daughter to the policy so our son would not be a primary driver. Been working like a charm for years, even though my daughter doesn’t even live with us and never drives the car!”

Suddenly, I didn’t need that ostrich egg to make an omelet—I’d rather use this guy’s grade-A, large egghead. But before I could crack him open, he continued.

“Since you’re an insurance huckster,” he said. “Maybe you can answer this. Our married daughter—who is actually part owner of the car, she paid for it when she was in college—is rated as unmarried and driving zero to three miles to school or work…both are sweet lies! To lower our premium even more, should I change her rating to married and driving for pleasure?”

“Sir,” I said. “You have bigger problems than driver ratings.”

Why is Ace rating this guy R for repulsive?

For help solving this mystery and to check your solution against Ace’s, click here.

Jonathan Hermann (hermannism@gmail.com) is an IA contribution editor.