Monday, June 6, 2016

The Walls at the Mall are Totally Tall or Shopping Maul

Yesterday I had to visit
a bastion of American
consumerism at it’s
most decadent, and
it was gross.  I visited
a Mall.

It had been a terribly long
time since I went to a mall
and walked through the
various concourses and food
courts surrounded by…
the people.

I’m sure they are all
just regular folks, just
trying to make their
way in the world,
but there was just
something about them
that made me feel sad.

I deny things to myself.
I rarely buy things I don’t need.
I rarely buy things I do need.
I’d rather shovel coal than
shop.  Yet I was surrounded
by people’s insatiable hunger for stuff
at every turn.

New this, new that, neo-retro,
new tech,  buy it, buy it, buy it,
buy it all. Now. Do it. Get it.
hang it, play it, stuff it, fuck it,
eat it, cook it, ram it down your
throat and for God’s sake use
the in store discount.

I was only killing time while I
bought new tires and the mall
just happened to be there.
I couldn’t stand it after one full
walking circuit of the mall
grounds and it was killing

I like nice things. I’m fascinated
by nifty convenient gadgets and
fun trinkets, I just don’t want to
have to look for them on the
killing fields of the mall. Or
surrounded by mall walkers,
which are worse than Zombies
or vampires or werewolves.

They shuffle, stroll, amble,
mosey without direction or
purpose as slow as they possibly
can, in front of you. Even without
purpose I still walk pretty quickly.
I have a funny walk as it is. So there’s no
need to advertise it.

But the people with eyes filled
with glittering dollar signs, teenage
girls wearing little to nothing in line
at the mall Starbucks ordering coffee
drinks I’m sure 13 year olds shouldn’t.

Teenage boys looking thuggish in
sleeveless tees and droopy shorts,
baseball caps pulled low over their eyes
so no one can seem them stare with lust
at the Victoria’s Secret store.

Over-stimulated parents in a sea
of bewilderment over the new hot
item that just has to be purchased no
matter the cost. I navigated my way through
it as a deep sea diver would comb the sea bed.
Slow, trudging, in the murky depths of
colorful signs demanding my money for stuff.

I was glad to leave. I was glad for my cynicism. 

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