I'm shopping. I'm wearing a black shirt with a dragon breathing lightning on the front. In no way, shape or form is this like a uniform in the big box store I'm in. Now, I'm browsing through some shirts, which are stationed across the walkway from the registers, and it's a quiet time. No major crowds, and as per usual for big box stores, there are only a couple registers open at this time.
I hear a shrill voice call out, "I'm ready to be rung up now!"
None of my business. Probably someone who feels they must announce their presence to the world. I smirk to myself, thinking that this person also announces, "I have to go potty now!" before they walk to the public restrooms.
"Helloooo! I'm ready to be rung up nowww!" The shrill voice cries out again.
Do they have this shirt in blue? All I'm seeing is black or white or tan...
"Hello! Hello! Excuse me! Hello!"
Oh, they have it in red, but... meh... I walk around to the other side of the display. I have a cart with me. Fully visible to the registers. When I go to the other side of the display, I push my cart, with my purse and a few other purchases in it, to the other side of the diplay.
I hear the dainty sound of a T-Rex in flip flops come stomp-flapping my way.
There's the blue! Awww but... I don't like the blue in this style, AND they don't have my size. Damn.
I slowly look up and meet this person's gaze. "That's nice. Go to any open register you like."
"I've already unloaded my stuff onto the conveyor belt. I'm not moving. Get your ass over there and ring me up."
I stare at her. She stares right back. I break gaze, grab the bottom of my shirt and stare down at my lightning-breathing dragon on my front. I look back up, slowly, slowly, stretch my face into a huge grin, then laugh in her face. "Ha! That's a good one! Have a LOVELY day ma'am!"
She looks outraged, then stares at me a little more closely. "You don't work here." Not even a question. The dawn has broken over the Plains of Ignorance.
I push my card deeper into the jungle of shirt displays, and leave her behind. When I look back a short time later, peering through the tangle of clothes racks, all of her things are back in her cart, and she has slunk to the end of the line of an open register.
--Puppies in Prada