Karen saunters up to the makeup counter, bag swinging slightly, hands on her hips, chest out, scanning the products like she’s judging their quality before she even speaks. She arranges her posture perfectly, tilting her head slightly as her fingers hover over the palettes, like she’s already imagining the perfect look.

“Oh my gosh, hi! I literally need this matched perfectly today.” She picks up a foundation bottle, rolling it in her hands to inspect it, eyebrows raised. “Like, last time, the shade was completely off and I literally couldn’t even. I need something that actually works with my skin, and don’t even get me started if the contour’s wrong… ugh, I would die. Can you help me get this right?”

Karen leans slightly forward, chest out, one hand on her hip, tapping her perfectly manicured fingers on the counter, and smirks, “Honestly, I don’t have time for mistakes,” letting her playful confidence and total entitlement speak for itself.