First Come Not Served

There's a warehouse in AF that pulls random stuff out into their parking lot everyday for passersby to purchase. For the last week there's been a sign on their building stating they're closing their doors and everything must go on Saturday. About 10:00am I stop by in hopes of finding a table I can use between the sectional downstairs (since getting rid of the LoveSacs there isn't anywhere to rest our legs). Low and behold there it was... a huge, sturdy dining room table that I could chop the legs down to fit and repaint and the price was only $120 cash, tax included. He let me use his measuring tape and I told him I'd be back after I dump the kids and bring cash - but it has to be by 2:30pm when he leaves. Ben had a business meeting that ran longer than expected but he returned in time for me to leave and get back to the warehouse by 2:28pm for my dream table (I was REALLY excited about it and had already thought of the design I'd paint). The guy is standing there talking with a hot chick (I think he was single and in his early 20's) and her brother when I arrived. I saw the table was still there and handed him the cash. "I'm here for my table!" "Which table?" "That one right there," pointing to the table. Pointing to the hot chick, "Well, her mom is buying it and just left to get cash." "But I told you earlier I wanted it and would be back with MY cash and rig to pick it up." He's kinda stammering, but not effectively, "But her mom just left to go get cash. She was writing out a check when I told her it's Cash Only so she will be back with cash." Getting irritated but not to the point of punching the guy, "Okay, but I did the same thing and came back with cash so first come first served, right? I mean, I realize that this is a Hot Chick and I'm just an Old Married Mom but that doesn't make sense that you won't let me take the table since I'm here first with cash." He explained that the lady is also buying chairs to go with it and, therefore, giving him more money than I would with the table alone. But that doesn't dispute the fact that I was there first with the cash and he didn't have a very good reason. Never did I raise my voice, call him names or be rude and instead said, "Well, I guess it wasn't meant to be for me. It doesn't make any sense, but I'm not going to get bent out of shape about it." He tried to find an alternative option but nothing else worked as well as that blasted table. So, I will continue on my quest for the perfect table while my poor, poor family suffers with nowhere to put their feet. Sad, isn't it?