Influencer, Or Under The Influence?

(I’m browsing at a boutique that carries a bunch of brands that are popular with models and influencers. I’m a big fan of one these brands that creates stunning clothes, but they’re fairly pricey so I rarely buy, and only when they’re on sale. Still, I treasure the items I do get, like the dress I am actually wearing today to the boutique. It was part of their collection two years ago, so it’s not sold at the store anymore. While I’m looking at a couple of dresses, I feel a hand grab me from behind. I whip around and see a statuesque woman staring at my dress.)

Me: “Excuse me?”

Woman: “That’s the [dress] dress! I wanted to get that, but it’s been sold out everywhere for ages. I’m so happy I finally found it.”

Me: “I don’t think they sell this here anymore. I’m sorry.”

Woman: “What do you mean? This looks like my size.”

Me: “What?”

Woman: “I’m an influencer, see? I need to have clothes that are both sexy and pretty. This dress is perfect!”

Me: “I don’t know what to tell you. You should ask a salesperson to help you.”

Woman: “I don’t need someone else to help me. This is what I want; it’d be perfect for my new Instagram post. I want to try on this dress now!”

Me: *incredulous at this point* “This is my dress. Now, please leave me alone.”

(I try to leave, but she’s blocking my way and I’m essentially backed up against the rack.)

Woman: *screeching now* “Why won’t you give me the dress?! Call your manager now!”

Me: “I don’t work here, and this is my dress. Now, get out of the way.”

Woman: “YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME THE DRESS! I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR IT! I’LL GET YOU FIRED, B****!”

(Having had enough of this, I try to push past her. She yanks at my dress as I’m leaving.)

Me: “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

Woman: “THIS IS MINE! A girl like you doesn’t deserve a dress this beautiful! I’ll do it justice!”

(I’m just panicking completely. I’m very close to tears and this woman just won’t let go of me.)

Me: “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

(She kept grabbing the dress and I tried to push her away. Suddenly, I heard a loud rip. She’d ripped off a sleeve, causing the front of the dress to fall down, essentially exposing my chest to an entire store full of people. I grabbed the front and burst into tears. I sat on the ground sobbing and I saw a store employee wrangle the woman away, while another came over to put a large wrap around me. The employee comforted me while we waited for the police. The woman was arrested when the police came, and she still kept screaming at me. I did press charges, but it didn’t really do much. She eventually got some community service for what she did, while I was left with the ruins of my favorite dress and the memory of being completely manhandled with my breasts on display for everyone to see.)