happy birthday

I went to the mall today to buy my son-in-law a birthday gift. Ordinarily I go nowhere near the mall but as I knew exactly what I was getting and which store I was getting it from I felt it was safe to venture in. As I drove up the ramp to the roof where I park for safety reasons, I noticed that the big slabs of concrete that held up the ramp were crumbling. I pressed on the accelerator as if driving faster would get me safely into the parking garage and off the ramp quicker. Although somewhat illogical, I hesitated to think how one gets out of the garage if the ramp collapses.

The roof was under repair. Someone other than me obviously saw the crumbling cement, and taped off a portion of the parking spots, of course the ones nearest the doors.  I parked, walked toward the entrance to Sears, around the caution tape and into Sears. The security guard mumbled something as I passed him which could have been ‘good afternoon’ or ‘stop I’ll shoot’….either way I kept going. It was 100 degrees in the store.  At least.   I broke a sweat as I made my way to the escalator that would take me to floor I needed to enter the mall from Sears. I had barely just finished putting up my Halloween decorations and the mall was decorated for Christmas. Holly, trees and I kid you not, fake snow. As the sweat dripped off my forehead I watched a mother attempt to stop her ADHD child from eating the plastic snowflakes that he was  now putting into places I am sure should not be embedded with plastic snow.

I found the directory with the map and the little YOU ARE HERE arrow and followed the chart to locate Modell’s. Passing the kiosks selling everything from unnecessary cell phone accessories to overpriced air brushed T-shirts I knew it was only a matter of time before I would have to pass the gauntlet of try-me’s. Try-me’s are those booths that offer everything from spa services to water massages. I dodged the spa guy, backtracked around the sea salt man and bullied my way passed the aqua spa stand and arrived at Modell’s. The store was adorned with everything Yankees to my hearts delight. I thankfully found what I wanted immediately as it was as stifling here as it was in Sears.  Perhaps the mall owners could lower the heat to a bearable temperature, save some fuel, save some money and pass the saving on to us. But that ain’t gonna happen!  I looked around and realized I was the only one sweating, probably because I was the only one who hadn’t recently immigrated from a Caribbean island.  No comment!

As I waited on  line I found another Yankees shirt I thought my daughter would like to wear for the playoffs. As the girl rang up my purchase she asked if I could get another shirt since the one I chose had no price tag. I looked, none of them had tags. She looked through a price book as she waited for someone to acknowledge her call for help. I jokingly said “it must be free”….she didn’t get it. And neither did I in the long run. She never found my item, no one ever came to help her and my daughter did not get her shirt since I was seconds away from heat stroke and had to leave it stranded at the counter. I took my bag and left the store full well knowing the sea salt man would be ready for me this time around and I prepared my excuse for not trying or buying today.

Me, my Modell’s purchase and my pocketbook (tucked pretty much into my armpit for safety) made our way uneventfully to the escalator in Sears. Before I got on the moving stairs I saw two things that caught my eye…. a section marked full-figured and a sign proclaiming 50% off.  Deadly combination. For 45 minutes I picked through rack after rack of clothes that looked more like island wear than autumn in New York, but I still managed to find three complete outfits. Two for work, and one for those slobby days that I love so much. I got on the line. 30 deep. 4 registers. I waited for 5 minutes. No one moved. One register closed. Another put the manager call light on.  Waiting. Sweating.  Ten minutes…still no movement. I counted to 100 and left. I hung the clothes on the closest rack.  I hold back tears….or is that sweat pouring into my eyes? I get to the escalator. It isn’t moving. This is a joke right? Twilight Zone? Punk’d? I made my way back passed the full figure section, the 50% off sign and the clothes I abandoned and found the elevator. Not that I wanted to use them, but I did wonder, where are the stairs? I got to the roof level and sprinted toward the door where I knew there would be refreshing lifesaving air. The security guard mumbled something that could have been ‘good afternoon’ or ‘stop I’ll shoot’…either way I kept going and didn’t stop til I got to my car.