She screamed as I left the store.
She was wearing a clearly hand made dress sewn together from various scraps of rough undyed, untreated cloth.
“I… This is imitation leather!” I said, holding up one shoe as proof.
“I don’t care about animals, by supporting the system you’re murdering all of us, MUR-“
“What’s your name?”
That surprised her.
“I’d like you to meet my sister Eliza, it’s her birthday and this was her gift, yell at her.”
Sadly the two didn’t blow up like I’d hoped. Too much common ground with all men being bastards and such.