Rainy Day Boredom

I was bored this afternoon, so I decided to go to the mall and buy stuff. But a mall experience does not relieve boredom as much as it can cause depression. I went anyway, throwing caution to the wind, ready to take on the trip with a good attitude and a zero balanced credit card in my pocket. Since I still needed several thousand steps to reach my daily goal, I parked at the opposite end of the mall from my target destination and struck out to the shoe department at the other end of the mall. The walk was certainly depressing; malls have changed so much. Malls have become somewhat archaic with shopping venues developing into quaint old world groups of boutiques and specialty stores located nearby. But I nostalgically remembered the time when malls were exciting, sitting at the coffee shop on a Saturday night, watching people walk by, smiling and having a good time. We would drink coffee and enjoy making fun of the shoppers, especially the men tagging along behind their wife and kids. My trip today was a walk by closed stores with windows covered with paper and flowers, empty spaces, tired plants, strange people dressed as if they were at home sitting on the couch, and kiosks selling cell phone covers and “14 karat gold” crosses. I missed the Christmas music conjuring up happier times for this tired old building.

It turns out the walk was the highlight of my experience. There is only one word to describe shoes today – ugly. I find nothing about four-inch heel sandals with straps that wrap around and lace up the leg appealing. Neither were there any shoes my size in the entire store. Moving on to the clothing department, I suddenly realized that I have gained a few hundred pounds since the last time I was in the mall. The store did not have enough spandex to cover vital parts of me. After checking out pants with elastic waistbands, I began looking at blouses. The blouses are now called tops and they all had holes them, in the sleeves, on the shoulders and significant parts of the back and front. It would be necessary to wear a shirt under the blouse in order to walk out of the house to the mailbox. I thought about going buy sheets; they only have to fit the mattress, not me.

By this time, empty handed and craving wine and carbs, I started the trek back through the mall and to the car. On the way out of the mall, I passed Victoria’s Secret, displaying skinny, larger than life-sized portraits of semi-nude models appearing to own the secret, which may be the answer to question the store display posed for me – “What the hell is a Bralet?”