(Scene opens on an Ann Taylor; track lighting, sales racks, 40-something sale associates and all. L. diligently browses the racks while I absentmindedly flip through a couple of marked down shirtdresses.)Me: (looking around) You notice anything, L.?
Her: (not looking up) No...what?
Me: You're the youngest person in here by about...30 years.
Her: (turns away from rack and looks around) Oh shut up.
(The two stand around while L. continues going through the racks. She stops abruptly.)
Her: Let's get the fuck out.
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