Lunch Hour

The mall near where I work can be summed up as the answer to this question: “Where can I go when I need an outfit, I have $12, and I don’t even want to spend all of that”. Naturally I hate it, and yet when given a slow day at the office I find myself darkening its doors. Today was one such day. And it continued to deliver on being legitimately the weirdest.

As I pulled into the parking lot I found it harder than usual to find a spot. This isn’t so much due to the fact that it’s Christmas time, but more so due to the fact that school busses were taking up the spots.

 I’m sorry, is there a field trip to the mall happening today? Is that real life? Did some kid have to go home and get his mom to sign a permission slip and give him $5 for his sack lunch so he could go on a field trip to JC Penny? What school is this? The only justification I could see behind this is taking all the slackers on a trip and ghost-of-Christmas-futuring them about where they are headed career-wise if they don’t shape up.

As I’m walking through the mall I walk PAST a disgracefully embarrassing shoe store called Cathy Jean. What’s your target demographic when you’re naming a store after someone’s aunt? Aunts. That’s who. 

To be clear, I’m not in this store, and yet a lady FLAGS me down and asks me to help her pick a shoe out. Her exact words were “Can you help me? I’m trying to go for an Eva Longoria look and don’t know what shoe to pick”. The only answer I could muster is “I don’t personally know Ms. Longoria but I’d venture to guess that the 70% off blow out sale at Cathy Jean isn’t a target rich environment for her shoe collection. But that beige kitten heel will do.” How is that a real thing that happened.

I then make my way to Sephora because I’m “technically” out of foundation but it’s also “technically” my birthday month and I want my free birthday gift. The line is equivalent to being at the airport the day before Thanksgiving and not having sky priority or TSA pre check like some unknown hobo. 

When I finally get to the front the cashier is like “Is this all you’re buying?!?!” as if to say that I’m crazy for standing in such a line for this small purchase. Excuse me to the moon and back that the Lord and I share a birthday month. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of it. And quite frankly I enjoy exercising quite possibly the only self-control I possess and not buying all the do-dads that your store places like bait in the line to distract me. You know where I’m about to not exercise said self-control? Great Wraps in the food court when they ask me if I want to add curly fries.

The food court is the loneliest place on earth. Literally everyone is sitting at a table by themselves eating Chinese food or a great wrap that she said no cheese on and she’s obviously going to the gym later and not eating dinner tonight so it’s no big deal if she gets fries. You know who very much does not belong in the food court, 9 days before Christmas, barreling though like she’s been set on fire? A blind lady. And yet there she is. Walking at such an uncomfortable pace that I start to question if maybe she’s actually a speed walker and she just likes pushing a walking stick in front of her. I am so insanely uncomfortable with what she’s doing and also with how much of a Nostradamus I am because lo and behold she jackknifes an empty chair. 

Of course you did. I only wish you t-boned the sample lady so I could watch all the samples cartoonishly fly into the air. And that’s my cue to head back to work.