Ok, so I work in a mall. Sorry, I enjoy having a job so can't tell you which one. But let me tell you, friend, it is by far some of the best people watching I have participated in in quite a while (minus the state fair because people watching on that level is UNBEATABLE). But anywho.. you would not believe the kind of nonsense I see walking around this mall. There are children in shoes that squeak. Yes, you read right. They SQUEAK with each tiny little step! And you thought those light-up shoes your mom made you wear when you were 6 were bad. These kids couldn't escape if they tried because you can hear those dadgum shoes all over the place. I almost feel like these squeaky shoes are the new kiddie-leash, which I have nothing against by the way. I had a leash when I was little and people apparently gave my mom the stink face for it but I was a little rugrat who liked to get into things. Mom really had no choice. And there are children with at-ti-TUDES! Oh my goodness gracious. This evening I overheard a child who could not have been more than five say "woman, where the heck are we?!" to his mother! I don't know about you, friend, but if I had said that at that age, I would also have expected to get a butt whoopin' when I got home.
**DISCLAIMER: I was NOT beaten as a child. I got tough love in the form of butt whoopin's and I can assure you I deserved every single one of them**
And then you have the cool teenager crowd. There's the 14-year-olds who get their moms to drop them off so they can walk around with Hollister and American Eagle bags lookin fly like a G6. It's ok guys, I did that, too, when I was your age. And, of course, there's the older teens. The ones who walk around bearing a striking resemblance to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman before Richard Gere took her to get all those fancy clothes. I think you know what I'm talking about.. They walk around holding hands with their boyfriends or girlfriends giggling as they whisper sweet nothings in each other's ear. Oh, to be young again.. Haha! My favorites, however, are the young ladies who strut their stuff in those sweet designer heels. My hat's off to the few of you who can pull them off. I for sure couldn't do it. But what kills me are the girls who don't quite know how to walk in heels. Sure, you look smashing as you stand still talking on your Blueberry (or whatever the new phone is this week) waiting for the elevator, but the tragedy begins when you take those first few steps again. It is my firm belief that if you're going to wear those amazing shoes, you should work it--graceful like a gazelle and NOT like a tyranosaurus rex with a limp. You should really work on that.
And speaking of shoes, what in the world is up with the "kitten heel?" That concept is still beyond me. Personally, I think if you're going to wear flats, wear flats. If you're going to wear heels, wear heels. You can't have it both ways, dear friend. But I'll just let that one go..
And the highlight of the people watching this week has come with the arrival of the Christmas season and, of course, Santa Claus. Being the kid at heart that I am, I have been wanting to have my picture taken with Santa for days now, but I've been doing my job so I haven't had time yet. Just sayin.. But the other night as I was taking the trash out after closing up I saw something that has completely and totally changed my view of Santa. No longer do picture jolly ol' St. Nick with his cheerful smile, his red hat and his boisterous laugh. Oh no, friends.. As I opened the door to the loading dock to put the trash in the dumpster (glamorous job, I know) who did I see but none other than Santa himself....with his snow white hair flowing into his tremendous beard. But this was not the Santa from my childhood dreams. This Santa had apparently forgotten his suspenders (and yes, crack kills) AND his traditional red coat. Let me just tell you that seeing an old fat guy in red hot pants half-way covering his rear end and a wife-beater has scarred my mind forever. I hope he's happy with himself...
So there you have it. That's what I see every day at work. And with that, I'm spent. Goodnight friends!
K-rock
No comments:
Post a Comment