Malls
(Day Fifty-Two)
I have nothing to say today. Seriously, nothing. I've been sitting here staring into space for 30-40 minutes. Whenever I have to write and I can't think of anything to say, I start by saying, "I have nothing to say." And then things start to come out. Are they worthwhile? No. But regardless.
I went shopping with a friend today. We went to the mall -- I hate malls. I hate the teenagers that drift around, playing their puberty games with each other and loitering around at store entrances. I hate the old ladies who walk 3 miles per hour and take up the entire walkway. I hate the people who accost you as you're walking by and try to get you to take a survey, and the crowded department stores with the perfume smell you can taste in the air. I hate the yellow, dingy lighting in Payless and the junky center stalls filled with cell phone cases and airbrushed caricatures. I even hate the American Cookie Stand, which sounds like blasphemy -- and believe me, it kind of is -- but they've turned a great, delicious, wonderful thing into a cheap-looking, brightly frosted junk food. I'd still eat it, but I'd feel sad after, before I bought another one and suffocated the sadness in cookie.
The only mall I actually enjoy is the Fashion Mall, and while I'm 99.9% sure that makes me snobby, it's true. You know why? Cause the stores are nice and well-lit. There are brands there you won't find at most malls in Indy, and they're not cheap or dingy. And best of all, there are no solicitors and no center stalls selling junk. Just nice, clean, organized spaces.
So I'm snobby.
As we were walking through the mall today, a girl in a green wool jacket, maybe in her early 20s, started walking alongside us.
"Can I ask you guys a question?"
I looked at her with what was probably a mix between wariness and dread. There are some things I don't like that will probably not come as surprise to anyone: making small talk with strangers and being sold something. I was pretty sure she was going to try both.
"No, don't worry. You don't have to be skeptical. I'll walk with you. I just want to ask you...can you tell me about your spiritual beliefs?"
Ugh. First of all, don't go up to strangers at the mall. Second of all, don't ask strangers about their spiritual beliefs.
Nice Amanda made polite conversation, telling the girl that her dad was a pastor and she was good to go. That didn't dissuade Green Coat Girl.
"So you've been saved? When you die, you know you'll go to heaven?"
"Yeah, yeah, I feel pretty good about that."
"Well, what about you?" The girl said, looking at me.
"I'd rather not talk about this," I said, walking faster and veering to the right in the hopes that we could lose her.
"What?"
"I'd rather not talk about this."
Later, once she'd left us alone, I asked Amanda, "Do you think they're actually successful doing that kind of thing?"
"Well, it makes them feel like they're doing good," she said. The idea made me mentally stop for a second. The whole encounter had made me uncomfortable. I don't want to get into my own personal beliefs, but I don't agree with the idea of "saving" -- I don't think any kind of God capable of creating something as huge and complex as the universe would condemn most of it to a fiery doom because people don't happen to choose one specific, isolated way of looking at things. And I definitely don't agree with the idea of pushing your beliefs on someone, no matter what those beliefs are. But I wondered for a second if I should have been nicer.
No, I didn't need to be nicer. I was perfectly polite, and I avoided getting sucked into something completely torturous. But part of me wanted to sit that girl down and say, "What exactly are you doing? What exactly do you think is going to come of this?" I don't understand this kind of belief system or the kind of thought process that would make someone think accosting people at the mall and asking them questions about their religion is a good idea.
So it's another encounter that makes me really want to avoid malls. Really, avoiding people in general is often a good idea.
I have nothing to say today. Seriously, nothing. I've been sitting here staring into space for 30-40 minutes. Whenever I have to write and I can't think of anything to say, I start by saying, "I have nothing to say." And then things start to come out. Are they worthwhile? No. But regardless.
I went shopping with a friend today. We went to the mall -- I hate malls. I hate the teenagers that drift around, playing their puberty games with each other and loitering around at store entrances. I hate the old ladies who walk 3 miles per hour and take up the entire walkway. I hate the people who accost you as you're walking by and try to get you to take a survey, and the crowded department stores with the perfume smell you can taste in the air. I hate the yellow, dingy lighting in Payless and the junky center stalls filled with cell phone cases and airbrushed caricatures. I even hate the American Cookie Stand, which sounds like blasphemy -- and believe me, it kind of is -- but they've turned a great, delicious, wonderful thing into a cheap-looking, brightly frosted junk food. I'd still eat it, but I'd feel sad after, before I bought another one and suffocated the sadness in cookie.
The only mall I actually enjoy is the Fashion Mall, and while I'm 99.9% sure that makes me snobby, it's true. You know why? Cause the stores are nice and well-lit. There are brands there you won't find at most malls in Indy, and they're not cheap or dingy. And best of all, there are no solicitors and no center stalls selling junk. Just nice, clean, organized spaces.
So I'm snobby.
As we were walking through the mall today, a girl in a green wool jacket, maybe in her early 20s, started walking alongside us.
"Can I ask you guys a question?"
I looked at her with what was probably a mix between wariness and dread. There are some things I don't like that will probably not come as surprise to anyone: making small talk with strangers and being sold something. I was pretty sure she was going to try both.
"No, don't worry. You don't have to be skeptical. I'll walk with you. I just want to ask you...can you tell me about your spiritual beliefs?"
Ugh. First of all, don't go up to strangers at the mall. Second of all, don't ask strangers about their spiritual beliefs.
Nice Amanda made polite conversation, telling the girl that her dad was a pastor and she was good to go. That didn't dissuade Green Coat Girl.
"So you've been saved? When you die, you know you'll go to heaven?"
"Yeah, yeah, I feel pretty good about that."
"Well, what about you?" The girl said, looking at me.
"I'd rather not talk about this," I said, walking faster and veering to the right in the hopes that we could lose her.
"What?"
"I'd rather not talk about this."
Later, once she'd left us alone, I asked Amanda, "Do you think they're actually successful doing that kind of thing?"
"Well, it makes them feel like they're doing good," she said. The idea made me mentally stop for a second. The whole encounter had made me uncomfortable. I don't want to get into my own personal beliefs, but I don't agree with the idea of "saving" -- I don't think any kind of God capable of creating something as huge and complex as the universe would condemn most of it to a fiery doom because people don't happen to choose one specific, isolated way of looking at things. And I definitely don't agree with the idea of pushing your beliefs on someone, no matter what those beliefs are. But I wondered for a second if I should have been nicer.
No, I didn't need to be nicer. I was perfectly polite, and I avoided getting sucked into something completely torturous. But part of me wanted to sit that girl down and say, "What exactly are you doing? What exactly do you think is going to come of this?" I don't understand this kind of belief system or the kind of thought process that would make someone think accosting people at the mall and asking them questions about their religion is a good idea.
So it's another encounter that makes me really want to avoid malls. Really, avoiding people in general is often a good idea.