Patterns of stripes, crisscrosses, zigzags, and lines scrunched up then flattened out upon the seamstress's desk.
"Where's my order?" The seamstress looked up at the voice, fear written on her face.
"What's this?" He sneered, seeing the colored cloth. "This isn't what I ordered!"
She looked down. "It's blue, sir."
He frowned, dismayed. "Blue? I didn't order blue! Just give me what I came for!"
Disappointed, the seamstress reached down and picked up his actual order- a black and white shirt, the very same everyone ordered when they came in.
He snatched it, ungratefully before stalking off.
Some things never changed.