"You look like a lumpy blood clot," you tell her.
"Well, I am having my period," she replies.
"Yeah, maybe you're just bloated or something," you say supportively. She goes back into the dressing room and takes off the dress, tossing it over the door. You pick it up. As you're returning the dress to the rack, a saleslady approaches you. You're seriously not in the mood to help out someone's commission.
"We're giving free makeovers in the cosmetics department today. Would you be interested?" she says. She smells like a perfume Liz Taylor might endorse.