Bitch in My Store

You were short and had light brown hair. You had to wait for a dressing room to try on a dress, which you then decided to buy. It looked all-right on you. At the checkout desk with my stature towering over you, you tried to weedle a discount out of me by pointing out problems with the garment. You could only see the "holes" because you kept stretching the fabric. It was fine, the holes were indecipherable and there were no runs. You were stupid. I found you the same garment in the same size at another location. You huffed and scoffed and wrote down your name and number so that we could give you a brand new holeless shirt tomorrow. Sorry you're gonna get a sweet ass brand new piece of fine craftsmanship delivered to the store so you don't have to walk your ass the five blocks and get it yourself. If you see this, please come back to the store so that you can witness me throwing the shirt under moving traffic.