Without hesitation, I snapped a photo of their disgusting conversation and hailed a taxi, heading straight for the mall. I stormed toward the Lois Vitone store, standing tall amid its glamorous decor.
This store, set in the center of the first floor, was known for catering to only the wealthiest clients and the salesgirls there had an air of entitlement to match, with their polished appearances, perfectly applied makeup and aloof attitudes.
I was far from their typical clientele and they didn’t hesitate to let me know. I was dressed simply, in an apron and slippers, my hair messily twisted with a pencil from cleaning around the house.
The minute I stepped in, one petite salesgirl sneered at me, her voice loud and piercing. “Get out! This isn’t a place you can afford! Why don’t you look at yourself in the mirror?”
The other salesgirls chimed in, snickering and casting judgmental glances my way. “Yes! This is a top-tier luxury store! We don’t let just anyone walk in,” one scoffed.
Another added, “A single bag here costs tens of thousands. You’d be better off just dreaming about it!”
I brushed off their petty taunts. They meant nothing to me. After all, I had only one target in mind.