Free BFF's 2 by Brenda Hampton Page B

I can get for these items.”
    She lowered her glasses and winced at the items. “Are they real or knockoffs?”
    I didn’t want to insult this bitch, but she sure did insult me. Why would I even come here, if my items were knockoffs? I placed my hand on my hip, and rolled my neck around. “Where do you get off asking me if they’re real? Do I look like I wear knockoffs? I think you’d better look again, because I only wear the real deal, sweetie. Thank you very much.”
    The old, angry-looking white woman sorted through the items, laying them flat on the counter. She kept looking at the labels. When it came to the purses, she kept looking inside and feeling the leather.
    â€œI’m not sure about this one,” she said, referring to my Michael Kors bag. I used the money Cedric had given me to purchase that one at Macy’s.
    â€œIf you’re not sure, then you need to question Macy’s about selling counterfeit purses. I assure you that they’re not getting their purses from Soho in New York.”
    â€œMaybe not, but since I’m not sure about that one, I can’t give you a quote on it. As for the other items, how much do you want for them?”
    I was desperate for money, so I didn’t want to get on this bitch’s bad side and argue with her about the purse. Instead, I quoted her on what I thought the ten items were worth.
    â€œHow about five . . . no, six thousand dollars?”
    Finally, the lady laughed and removed her glasses. “That’s funny,” she said. “And now that you’re done joking with me, how about telling me how much you really want for these items?”
    I looked at her with a straight face. “I just told you how much I want, and since I’m not smiling, you know I’m not joking. In case you’re not bright enough to know what these pieces are worth, please check the price tag on the one right there. I’ve never worn it, and it cost twelve hundred dollars. The others I may have worn once or twice and they cost the same, maybe even higher. I’m sure you already know how much the purses cost, and three of them should tally up to what I want. Got it?”
    The woman was blunt. “What you want, you won’t get here. Got it? This is a consignment shop, where our customers expect to pay a discount for brand name merchandise. The clothes are wrinkled, and I won’t mention the stain I see on one of the dresses. Looks like the same stain Monica Lewinsky had on her dress, but I’m not one to assume anything. As for the purses, they are not in tiptop condition. The most I could give you for all of this is five hundred dollars. That’s it.”
    I couldn’t hold back, especially not after the Monica Lewinsky comment. “Bitch, are you crazy? Five hundred dollars? I should jump over this counter and knock some sense into you. At that price, you shouldn’t be working here. You apparently don’t know the value of these items. And stain or not, you know darn well that this stuff is worth way more than that. I could go stand on a corner and sell these items for more than that.”
    â€œThen I suggest you go do that because all I can offer you is five hundred dollars. Since you don’t want to accept my offer, good-bye and thanks for stopping by.”
    How dare this snobby heifer treat me like this? I snatched up my items and stormed out of there. I tossed the items on the back seat and slammed the door after I got inside. My mind was racing a mile a minute. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to get some quick money, other than to rob a bank. I had to laugh at how desperate I’d become, and the thought of robbing a bank was a bit much.
    I started my car and breezed my Mercedes with improper plates on it through traffic on Lindbergh Boulevard. Just as I was about to get on the highway, my cell phone rang. I looked to see who it was, and surprisingly, it was Trina. I