Question: While visiting my friend Jenna, I took off my very expensive watch to help her in the kitchen. When I went to put it back on, the watch was gone. Later I learned that Jenna’s babysitter had stolen it, along with some of Jenna’s jewelry, and sold everything at a flea market. I think I should ask Jenna to reimburse me, since the theft occurred in her house and was committed by her employee. My husband disagrees. What should I do?

Our answer: Assuming the thief or her parents aren’t going to make restitution, the first thing you should do is call your insurance agent. Virtually all homeowners policies cover theft, though generally only after the first $1,000. And who, you probably want to know, should cover that hefty deductible?

Individuals have an ethical, and often legal, obligation to provide for the safety and well-being of the friends they invite into their homes. Step through a rotting board and your hosts are responsible for whatever injuries you incur, regardless of whether they knew the board was unsound.

In a similar vein, Jenna is responsible for the behavior of her employee, even if she had no reason to think the babysitter was dishonest. Ignorance and a pure heart don’t wash away responsibility.

But Jenna is your friend - and fellow victim - and those are two good reasons to cut her some slack. So instead of asking her to make you whole, we suggest that you ask her to split your loss with you.

We’re not sure she’ll appreciate how fair you’re being, but she should.

Question: I often pick up a sandwich for lunch at the Whole Foods deli counter, where all the customers take a number.  Recently, a guy who arrived after I did gave a teenager whose number was about to be called ten bucks for it.  Wasn’t what this guy did unfair and unethical?  My wife says I’m overreacting, but I’m outraged.

Our answer:  So are we.

Let’s start, though, with what the guy didn’t do wrong.  First and foremost, he didn’t push you or anyone else he hadn’t paid back a place in line.  You weren’t, in other words, unfairly treated.

Moreover, what Mr. Big Shot did was in keeping with what’s done in many other settings, namely:  paying a premium to get faster or otherwise better service.  For example, customers willing to pay a larger membership fee get special shopping hours at Costco.

True, in situations like that, it’s the institutions that offer the deal, not the customers.  But so what?  There’s no more virtue in a business collecting a convenience fee than in it going to one of their customers.

So what is the problem?  The problem is that while it’s perfectly okay for money to talk, it shouldn’t be talking so loudly at the deli counter.

We have a tradition – rooted in the principle of equality among men – of first come, first served.  And while it‘s true that money buys all sorts of privileges and buys out of all sorts of inconveniences, it shouldn’t corrupt the processes that remain first come, first served.   At their core, they’re democratic, and that’s how they should stay.