still life with food court

i know the evils of malls- the consumerism, the lack of sunlight, the mind-numbing muzak- but i must say that being in a mall always seems to make me feel better. perhaps it brings me back to a simpler time. so much of my life has been spent in a mall; i worked for six years at sears and then lenscrafters, and it was not work as much as it was play. i still smile to think of me and carole cavorting around the women's section of sears adorned with the scarves off the mannequins and the ridiculous extent to which i'd avoid properly folding clothes. why fold a sweater when you can stuff it in the arm of another sweater? why find a hanger for a t-shirt when you can effectively hide it inside some jeans?

and then lenscrafters. i don't think another job will ever make me laugh as hard. the level of my professionalism hit an unprecedented low with this career move, and maybe this is why my job satisfaction- for the first four years- was so unbelievably high. how can one glaucoma test make me laugh to the point of stomach cramps and blurred vision? how could i have possibly spent three straight hours in the breakroom under the ruse of tightening a screw? oh, good times.

when i was a kid, the mall held such magic for me. i remember being nine years old and running off with my cousin from store to store in a mad race to spend our christmas money. we proudly toted our mothers' discarded purses, our faces adorned with bright spots of blush and contraband lipstick, and the hot pretzels and orange-ade were the finest tasting fare our mouths could have ever imagined.

now, when i get depressed, i like to walk around the mall. i don't necessarily need to buy anything- just being there is pleasure enough. i like to see the sales associates giggling as they stamp out $69.69 from the price gun onto the sides of their registers; i love the pre-teen girls examining charm bracelets as they wobble uncertainly in newly purchased shoes. nobody is sad in a mall; every shopper is either on an important mission or too busy gabbing with their friends to be depressed. i like the food court- the scent of all that sinful junk food, the slushee machines whirling red and blue. there's something very safe about a table of sweaters organized by color, a rack of jeans separated by sizes.

that said, i went to the mall by myself on tuesday night in an effort to make myself feel better. i bought a mocha, i tried on a prom dress, and i watched a group of kids in the toy store fight cheerfully over the playstation controller. i admired the fact that, inside a mall, there is no weather- no frigid air, no threat of rain, just the predictability of escalators and cinnabons. and then, while i did not intend to buy anything, i stumbled across a clearance rack. there, amidst the size dividers, was a red turtleneck for 77 cents. and it fit me perfectly, so i bought it.

i miss the mall.