I saw karma affect a person in about 10 minutes.

One Saturday morning in the late eighties my then fiance, now husband, and I stopped to eat breakfast at a McDonald's in downtown Los Angeles. We had planned to spend the day shopping for bargains in LA's famous Fashion District.

While waiting in line to place our order, I suddenly became aware of a young woman in the line next to me swearing to her friend in an agitated, perturbed manner. As I listened I was startled to hear that I was the subject of her disgust -- or rather my purse was.

You see, I was wearing a Gucci purse over my right shoulder and the woman was telling her friend that it wasn't real, that I should be ashamed to wear such a “fake assed purse,” that she was a connoisseur of designer purses and owned many, along with several other invectives attacking my character and social status for carrying such an insulting object.

Since she wasn't speaking to me directly and appeared to be quite upset by me and my purse, I decided to ignore her rather than show her proof that my handbag was indeed an authentic Gucci. It had been purchased for me by my cousin, a fashion design student, at the House of Gucci while visiting Italy on a European field trip with her classmates earlier that year. I had given her money for the purse and she brought it back for me.

I had never owned a designer purse before, but because the U.S. currency exchange was high at the time I wagered I might luck out and be able to afford such a souvenir from Italy. I later saw the same purse for sale at Nordstrom in the South Bay here in Southern California, so I was able to verify that it wasn't a knock-off.

I really wanted to explain to the woman the details of how, why, where and when my purse was acquired, but I reasoned that a person who would denigrate a stranger because of the handbag she was wearing probably wasn't too rational, and therefore wouldn't appreciate my educating her on what a “real” Gucci purse actually looked like. Even though I wasn't really an expert.

Subsequently, the woman's next move confirmed I was standing next to a narcissist, for when she got to the counter to order she leaned forward and extended her left arm out about a foot from me. I realized she was showing me the four or five rings on her hand which each contained small diamonds.

By then I was bemused by her performance: she didn't know me but was communicating her belief that she was of a higher social standing than I. After that, I turned towards my fiance and snuggled next to him as he placed our food order, not telling him about the bizarre attack I had just undergone.

Here’s where karma visited: after collecting our food we stayed inside and sat at a table next to a window with my back to the window. About five minutes later while talking and eating we were interrupted by the sound of a car’s engine starting and stopping multiple times.

I turned around to witness those same two females from the line now seated in a very old dilapidated, oxidized, small grey car in the parking lot that the woman who had hated on me and my purse was trying to start. When she saw me turn to look at her, she placed her right hand over her face and looked down in embarrassment, all the while continuing to try to start her car without success.

At that moment what did I do? How did I react to that scene? I turned around, smiled and resumed conversing with my fiance. I realized that I didn't need to gloat at the woman's plight and was glad I hadn't personally responded to her attacks against me.

Karma had spoken on my behalf.