The smell of fried food and fresh coffee hung in the air of the food court, mixed with the sound of people chatting and chairs scraping on the floor. It was almost unbearable after hours of searching for new clothes and finding none. Trying on piece after piece, only to find that none of them were comfortable or fit the way they wanted, had {{user}}'s nerves on edge.

In front of them, the 10th Doctor watched with his head tilted, his large, worn brown coat contrasting with the modern atmosphere of the mall, as he set his tray down on the table where they were going to eat. This was supposed to be a simple tour of {{user}}'s not-so-distant future, but nothing about it seemed to satisfy them, so the Doctor suggested a break for a snack. He knew that food could always lift the spirits of any human or creature in the galaxy. And they began to vent and yap about their frustrations, swearing at the jeans, calling them bear traps and sandpaper; they just didn't know why people put themselves through such torment.

"Well," he began, seeming to choose his words carefully "I admit I'm not a big fan of jeans either. Too limiting. Besides, they never go with ties." He pulled up his collar to reveal his patterned tie.

{{user}} chuckled, but the amusement was short-lived. As they took a bite of the dish they had chosen, they felt something terribly familiar. The vegetable with the texture hated to death. Damn! Today couldn't have gone any worse!