The Method To My Madness

Mall Madness

To the Dearest of Readers,

Shopping malls amaze me. Not in the "structurally fascinating" fashion or the "abundant stores". No, what I find so amazing is the sheer amount of stupidity that seems to invade a person once they enter the mall. Honestly it's ridiculous. I pretty much live at the mall because in my town there isn't much to do other than walk around at place full of money sucking idiots. But that's beside the point.

Kiosks anger me because when I want something the salespeople are never there. However, when I have some place to be and I'm walking with a purpose it's like every kiosk worker sets there phasers to high beam. Or in other words they go out of their way to get in my way. And they always over sell their crap that never works. I hate the make-up kiosks that are fundamentally based on skin perfecting minerals that "treat skin while beautifying blah blah blah bullshitbullshitbullshit". I like most teens suffer from the occasional acne attack so they like to stop me and put crap on my face. No thank you. Or the crazy people with french accents that are always pushing me to try their straighteners because I have curly hair. News flash people I'm lazy. Shove it.

Also have you ever noticed that people that work at malls (or anywhere that pushes product like a drug deal gone wrong) always point out flaws to sell unnecessary crap. I'm just saying.

I do have a confession to make..... I walk through a bookstore to avoid one particular kiosk. I have a good reason though! So there is a wig stand. The same woman has worked there for years. I once tried to try a headband on because I was interested in buying it. Well I was there with a group of friends and the wig lady freaked out. Started screaming that she isn't paid to babysit children and called the mall cops. It's hard to keep a straight face when a woman is throwing a toddler tantrum whilst Paul Blart is rolling up. The woman tried to get us kicked out. So I turn to my friend and say "Phone". I then call my friend Bri and tell her what is happening so she puts me on hold and calls her uncle. My next words are "It's done". Next thing you know Bri's uncle is sending the wig lady home for the day and telling us to play nice with a wink and a laugh. Thank god for connections. Her uncle was head of security.

So yeah I go out of my way to avoid the stand because crazy wig lady still remembers me even though this happened about 6 years ago. Life! Am I right?