I decided since I was here in the big city (teehee) I would do all the big city things I don’t get to do up in Big Sky Country. I drug my ass out of bed at the butt crack of noon. I wandered (I told you I’m from Texas, I wander) around the house in my jammies and my fuzzy slippers and drank an eggnog latte from my big Christmas mug. Then I got cleaned up and put on my face. Did you mother used to say that? Mine did. We would be getting ready to go somewhere and my Daddy would say “Doobie are you ready to go? “ and she would be standing in the bathroom in her bra with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth ratting her hair as high as she could possibly get it. She would be spraying Aqua-net and smoking lord knows how she didn’t blow herself up and she would say “Not yet. I still have to put my face on.” Now think about it if you are four years old and you heard your mother say “I have to put my face on” what are you going to do? You are going to run into the bathroom and expect to see your mom standing there with no face. You would immediately look on the counter to see if there was indeed a face lying there waiting to be put on.
What was I saying? Oh yeah, I put my face on and did my hairs. I got dressed in my big city clothes complete with high heels. I kissed Kahuna good bye and headed out to the city. What was I going to do in the Big City? Why go to the mall of course. You see it’s been about six months since I have stepped foot in a mall.
I was actually looking forward to my trip to the mall. You see I haven’t been in much of a Holiday mood. Nope I have not celebrating the Festivus Season like I should. I thought maybe wandering (shut-up I told you I’m from Texas) the mall would help. Seeing the decorations and the North Pole with Santa Clause getting peed on by little children seemed to be the medicine I needed to cure my Bahumbugitis. I climbed into the car tuned the radio to the all holiday all the time station and started out towards the mall singing “Rockin Around The Christmas Tree”. I made it to the first red light when I noticed that the people in the cars around me weren’t in the Festivus mood either. They all seemed angry and downright mean. When I looked in the car next to me the man looked at me like he had just spied an escaped inmate from the Looney bin. I mean doesn’t everyone sing in their cars at the top of their lungs while bobbing their head? I know I do. Then I got on the freeway. Now remember I have not been on a real freeway as in bumper to bumper horn honking finger gesturing freeway in about three months so I am out of practice. First I broke all the rules by actually going the speed limit then I didn’t tailgate one single person nor did I break check. I did however manage to irritate and anger all the other drivers just by my mere presence on the road. Finally I was at my exit and I bid a fond adios to my fellow autoist.
Since I have been absent from the sport that is known as mall shopping our mall has grown. It has blossomed and in its growth the configuration of the mall parking lot has changed. I was unaware so I drove to the spot I usually park. I always park in the same place so I can find my car. Do you have any idea how horrible it is to come out of the Diarrhea Mall and be on the wrong level in the wrong parking garage? I mean someone who would do that would also call the police and report their car stolen. Then when the police showed up and they realized that someone was in the wrong parking structure those mean policemen might laugh themselves into a stupor. Those same cruel policemen would not even offer someone a ride to her car in the other parking structure on the other side of the Mall. Not that this has ever happened to me. I drove to my usual parking spot only there was a huge building where I used to park. I drove on trying to find a new spot to not forget where I parked my car. I drove seven thousand miles to the other side of the mall and found a new place not to forget. I was really tired by this time because honestly I haven’t had this much excitement since I lost, um, I mean someone lost their car in the Diarrhea mall parking garage.
I entered the wonderland that is Macy’s and I was immediately blasted by the fresh smell of fake pine trees. I rode escalators and sampled pretzels, cinnamon buns and even little pieces of chocolate chip cookies. I was sprayed with perfume, blasted with bad Christmas Muzak and touched and felt every sparklie bead and bauble. I meandered through the kiosk that sells nothing but calendars and I lingered over the massaging pillow kiosk. I sat on the bench and watched the little children wait in line wailing and lamenting because they wanted to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him their deepest darkest wishes. Those same children only moments later were screaming and hollering wrestling Santa’s elf trying to get away from the smelly old man in the red suit.
I had a full day at the mall. I made my way the twenty seven miles back to Macy’s. I went to the exit that I thought would lead me to my awaiting vehicle. I stopped short, nothing looked familiar. I distinctly remembered that the door I came in entered into the men’s department. I walked and walked through the store but could not find the men’s department. I went upstairs thinking that maybe I had come in the upper level. There were more women’s clothes but no men’s. I walked in circles and then went back out into the mall. I found a map of the mall and right there on the map in two completely separate big boxes were two completely separate Macy’s. I was in the wrong Macy’s. I schlep (ok you got me I’m not Jewish but it sounded good) to the other Macy’s and find the exit in which I entered. I found my car and started home.
As I drove the freeway back to La Hacienda de Kahuna I realized something. I do not miss “Big City” life at all. I enjoy the lack of traffic unless there is a combine on the road. I enjoy the slower pace and the friendliness of my fellow motorist. I enjoy seeing traffic stopped because of an errant horse strolling down the middle of the road. I enjoy seeing smiling faces and if I am stopped at one of the few stop lights in town I am usually staring at a panting dog in the seat next to the driver. Yes I have to admit that I enjoy the country life.
Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go and put my jammies on but first I have to take my face off.
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3 comments:
I grew up with a mother who not only always had her "face" on, but made sure my sister and I did, too. To this day, if there is the slightest chance I will bump into my sister or mother, and there is ALWAYS a slight chance that I will because we all live in the same town, I wear lipstick and earrings just so I won't have to hear, "Where is your lipstick? Where are your earrings?"
I like stopping for horses in the middle of the road, too, except we don't have many running wild here in the Chicago area. But, occasionally there will be a mother goose and her goslings, or a mother duck and her ducklings crossing the street, and most people stop and watch because they're so cute.
But, for the most part, people just want to get where they're going and don't care about the beautiful sunset in their rearview mirrors. And, I sing at the top of my lungs in the car, too, and not always with the windows closed!
My mom used Aquanet too and had hair as tall as she could get it! And no matter how little make-up she had on or how casual her clothing, she never left the house without applying lipstick.
I live near several malls and I feel the same way you do when I'm there. I have just never enjoyed mall shopping. Maybe I'm a country girl at heart. After all, I too do lots of wandering.
I live in a big city and hate going to the malls. We have 2 million more people here than we did 20 years ago, BUT we only have 2 extra malls to accommodate. So 2 million more people cram themselves into the same diarrhea mall. Fun? I think not.
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