Eighties, schmeighties. We go all the time. It’s so much fun. They are really quaint little stores in there. We walk around, explore, laugh. We have our mall jokes and our mall routines. There are tons of people there, all clearly in the middle of their own mall rituals. There are teenage girls choosing squishies with the grim determination of fighter pilots. Very young couples on their first dates. Tween girls flocking to Claire’s (that curse of every mother of girls) for their BFF bracelets. Young dudes poring over dusty DVD collections. A father of four little kids sells his 3D-printed apple toys at ridiculously low prices. A single mother bustles in her pop-up wrapping kiosk. A black lady does brisk business of selling dessert pickles.
People sit around pouting instead of just going and doing things like tasting the mall lady’s dessert pickles. Yes, they taste something horrid but you make memories to last a lifetime.
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