Monroe walked out of the store, tossed his old sunglasses in the garbage, and slipped the new ones on.
He had been looking for decent sunglasses for more than a year now. His old ones were just that – old. Unstylish. Made him look like a dump from last year. He had bought them, and started an immediate look for newer, more stylish ones, as he did every time he bought sunglasses.
Now, having tossed those cheap old things, and donned the new ones, he knew he was cool. The hunt would start tomorrow for a new pair, of course, but for today, everything was perfect.
As he crossed the street, his foot caught on bump in the road. Monroe tripped, his glasses came off, and the lens cracked on the pavement. A car, turning right before the pedestrian could block it, ran over them, finishing the job.
Monroe picked himself up, pursed his lips, and turned around. He reached the garbage can, fished out his old sunglasses, and returned to the crosswalk, angry. He would need to save for a while to afford a new pair, so these would have to do.