"You keep coming back. That's good, officer! Keep browsing those clothes, keep saving…

"You keep coming back. That's good, officer! Keep browsing those clothes, keep saving that economy!"

If he really wants to save the economy he'd let you pay with net worth. Go over and ask him if you can

"I want to buy those itchy pants."

"You won't regret it, officer!" The street vendor smiles broadly.

Find something worth salvaging from that pile of rags.

Something cold grazes your hand. Synthetic and sleek -- a windbreaker. 'SURF', it says, but also: 'WIND', 'SUMMER', '100% WATERPROOF', and 'SPORT'. All in different typefaces.

This jacket is the apex of human evolution -- the moment at which man became weatherproof.

Practical, and yet it may deaden your senses to the world around you. Possibly because of the awful typeface.

"Good choice, officer! Mega-sporty. And it's only 4.50 for you, sir!"

No good. All you can come up with are some treated wool pants. You can tell they're too tight around your thighs and too loose around the waist.

Discard the woolly pants.

"No luck?" the street vendor says, visibly disappointed. "Why not take another look, officer? Keep supporting the economy!"

Touch them.

They itch. Like hell. Like an itch-pit in hell.

THE ITCH IS SO BAD YOU'LL WANT TO SMASH SOMEONE'S FACE IN.

"All natural materials, see?" The street vendor interrupts, guiding your hand over the fabric. "Real wool, 100% skin-friendly! And they're yours for only 2 reál!"

"Save the economy? What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you heard, officer? We've got to be economically conscious. Recycle your cash, keep it in circulation! Don't buy new things! Buy eco!"

"Thanks for the advice, I'll try to be more economically conscious."

"Very cool. The economy thanks you, officer."

"This doesn't make any sense. Why exactly does the economy need saving?"

"Look around, officer! You see all these premium goods, just sitting there, not getting bought? We've got to keep the flow of goods moving!"

"Is this really the economy we want to leave to our children?"

"This economy is really just a distraction from the cultural issues. You know -- immigrants and..."

"And what?"

"I don't know."

"Doesn't matter," the street vendor replies. "All that matters is the box. Check it out, officer."

"Those socialists in academia."

"Oh." The street vendor pauses. "Look man, I'm not into politics. I like everyone. Check out the box!"

"And genetic atrophy."

"Look man, I just want to buy some clothes."

"That's good, officer! That's exactly what the economy wants you to do."

"But I don't have children. I think."

"Too bad, officer. Kids make it all worthwhile. Without kids, who's going to be around to enjoy the economy?" He points at the clothes. "Don't let me stop you. Open the box and browse a little!"

"It's just nature: Powerful economies expand, weak economies go extinct."

"I can't go extinct, officer! I've got kids to feed. Once an economy goes extinct, it messes up the whole eco-system. You got to think about the consequences!"

"You're right. We've got to save Mother Economy!"

"That's the spirit! We've all got to do our part. Your part is to open the box and buy some clothes."

"I want to buy the windbreaker."

"Gotta prepare for springtime, right?" The street vendor seems pleased.

[Leave for now.]

Browse through the box.

You find your hands deep in tattered and faded garments made from weird polyester blends that make your body itch and sweat in all the wrong places.

The box smells like cat piss -- or like an old person with no money.

"Economical, but also trendy!" the street vendor shouts. "Look first-hand, buy second-hand. Keep the economy moving!"

Save the economy? That sounds off.

There are clothes inside. Cheap second-hand clothes, smelling of strangers' body odours.

"Don't be shy, these are premium-class clothes! Good quality fabrics, best retro design! Save the economy with your style, officer!"

How about some premium-class service over here? Like paying with net worth. Go over and ask him if you can do that.