Archive for August, 2012

I Went to the Mall so You Don’t Have to

August 9, 2012

Spoiler alert: It’s pretty much the same as it was in high school except there’s, like, a dozen more haberdasheries. That’s not a joke– there is a goddamn hat shop every other store front. If you turned the mall upside down and shook it, literally thousands of Charlotte Hornets snap-backs would fall out.

Anyway, here are some things:

1. Vulgar Jogging Clothes

When I was walking past Lady Footlocker, I saw that they offer a whole line of empowering exercise shirts that boast slogans of varying sauciness, most of which have to do with needs for speeds and general day seizing (one proclaimed in bold letters ‘TODAY IS MINE.’ I think it’s a good confidence booster, but a little showy for my taste. I feel like I’d be more suited to a subtler display of this proclamation, like maybe on a tasteful archery arm guard. Oh! And a cute companion shirt would say ‘I feel the NEED: The NEED for NOCKS!’Just spit balling here.). What caught my attention, though, were two shirts placed side by side, one of which read ‘LICK MY KICKS’ and the other, ‘KISS MY SASS’. I read it as ‘LICK MY ASS’. I would hardly call my vocabulary prim, but this took me seriously fucking aback. Lick your ass?? Christ! No way, lady! It took me almost a minute to realize my mistake. I was that ready to believe that jogging had just gotten super in-your-face and brazen about demanding rim jobs from everybody. I’m glad that it hasn’t. Yet.

2. Artisan Sign Siren Songs

One hilarious idea that my local mall had was to hang up dangling artisan signs for stores, so that one could, in theory, take a gander down the galleria and see their options for places to shit-kick around while their watch battery was being replaced. This is Theoretical Artisan Signs 101. However, those of us who have studied Applied Artistan Signage know that this only works if the signs are dangling anywhere fucking near the stores whose presence they announce. The signs in this mall are set up completely willy nilly, miles away from the stores that they advertise! I followed these crocodile tears into all sorts of shitty traps. Oh you wanted some stationary? Fuck you, fartknocker, you’re at The Sweet Factory now! And joke’s on you double because the card store is now one Mordor away! You gotta go through Nordstrom, you sap! We’ll see you in Hell before we see you in Hallmark! Hahahahahaha!

3. Sanrio’s still got plenty of that shit.

Yep. No shortage of cell phone dangles and pen dangles and dangles for your dangles there. Oh, and as a bonus, they had some Hello Kitty Cotton Candy body wash on sale. So if you’re trying to make your musk more attractive to pedophiles, snatch some up!!

Hellooooo, Kitty!

Nothing says ‘I don’t have pubic hair’ like the smell of a Japanese first grader.

4. Silver Lining?

In hind sight, it’s great that Border’s Books bit the big one because now there’s guaranteed room at every mall for a Spirit Halloween Store! My local former Border’s has already made the transition. I would love it if they kept most of the cozy Border’s furniture/cafe around so that when I’m tipsily considering whether or not I have the gams to pull off various costumes with the word ‘wench’ in them (pirate wench, old west wench, bar wench, winch wench [elaborate pulley system sold separately]), I could do it while curled up in a comfy armchair with a pricey but totally worth it pain au chocolat. *Note: I specified ‘tipsily considering’ there because I always have to get a little drunk before spending $35 on anything that I know is just a armpit hole timebomb. Let’s put the smooth jazz atmosphere back into shopping for things that come in shitty little bags with plastic hangers attached.

5. Well Sears is a real shithole, eh?

I don’t remember the last time I was in a Sears before this morning, but I can tell you that I don’t think I’ve been missing much. That place is crapsville. I wandered in there because of its proximity to Watch Repair, where I was having my pleather band swapped for a metal one because the pleather one smelled like a Mardi Gras foot job. I think the most sure-fire way to tell you’re in a crummy store is if there is, on a mannequin, a floral pattern brassiere with a GOLD ZIPPER in the front. Who is buying zipper-front bras?? Answer: Only 1980s prostitutes. Also at Sears were some shitty generic school uniforms. Man those things are getting boring. Khakis and baby blue cap sleeve polos? Yark. In my day, our uniforms were like the tartans of Highland clans, proud flags indicating what institution was teaching us such noble pursuits as Social Studies and Language Arts. Also, the navy blazers and houndstooth skirts we wore would have been perfect in the event of an Impromptu Slutty Rural Victorian Era Fox Hunt/Yacht Party. Long story short, Sears is a dirty, shitty place with nothing to offer anyone.

6. Treat.

I used to, upon entering the mall, grit my teeth in preparation for the absolute assault of Abercrombie & Fitch’s blaring night club dick beats. But no longer! That store isn’t in this mall anymore! No more shitty house music bass-raping your eardrums! We’re free, guys!

 

 


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