“Ugh! I can’t believe these lower-class people are standing here in line for the new Marquette purses. I can’t imagine they can afford designer accessories.”
Tiffany lifted her nose into the air, “I bet the woman who is twelfth in line is wearing costume jewelry.”
Maureen giggled, and glanced at a woman wearing ordinary clothing. She tilted her head to the left. “The thrift store is that way, honey!”
The clerk announced over a loudspeaker, “The store is having a promotion today! The new line of Marquette purses will be sold with a bottle of perfume inside of them! The perfume is made by the same designer!”
Tiffany swiped her credit card, and eagerly unzipped her new purse. She sprayed the perfume onto her arm. It had a foul smell to it. She shrugged.
The lower-class women in line watched as the brown liquid dripped down Tiffany’s arm. They laughed, as they realized it was liquid diarrhea.