I mentioned in one of my previous posts that we went shopping last weekend. I used to loathe shopping but now that I have a baby to buy things for I just hate it. Here's why...
My first mistake was going on a Saturday, and of all places... the mall. Before I say much more, I'd like to share Urban Dictionaries definition of the mall:
1. A place where foolish people go to put a hole in their wallets, so by the time they are done they don't even need a wallet
2. A place where teenagers go to waste their lives away.
I have actually been to the mall more in the past year then I have in my lifetime I think. Since I live in a climate where you risk being on fire as soon as you step out the door, I would often take S there to walk around. She really does enjoy being in her stroller (I mean who wouldn't enjoy being pushed around wherever you go) and people watching is an added bonus.
As I pushed my thrilled baby around in her stroller I found myself doing copious amounts of eye rolls. I try not to get annoyed, but have you been to the mall?!? It's nearly impossible not to. Not only do you have the ample amounts of teenagers running around playing 'chase me' up the elevator and escalators, you also have what I like to call the hall hoarders. Hall hoarders come in many forms, from the young to the old to the just plain inconsiderate middle aged men and women. I have yet to come up with an official definition, so here is a basic description of the 'Hall Hoarder(s)':
Type A: A person of any age with the ability to take up a large hallway (or thruway) by wandering aimlessly looking up at the ceiling as if monkey's might start falling from it. The aforementioned wandering causes said person to stumble back and forth as if drunk.
Type B: Multiple persons of any age in line formation stretched from wall to wall of a hallway (or thruway) as if preparing to play 'Red Rover'. Said persons typically walk painfully slow.
I don't think it is possible to spend anytime in any mall without encountering at least one hall hoarder. A hall hoarder poses a problem to me because when I shop, I usually know exactly what I am going for. Therefore, I have a plan in place before I step foot inside and I walk fast to complete my mission and get out before I go completely insane. I don't have the patience to deal with the Type A hoarder; I go left to get around them, they suddenly see a monkey falling from the ceiling and go left to dodge it. I go right to get around them, suddenly another monkey is falling and they go right as well. Type B hoarders are the worst, because it is literally like running into a brick wall that is moving at turtle speed and you have no hope of breaking through. Unless the Type B hoarders are teenaged girls, then you have hope that one of them will see a boy that they like and get all giddy and run away to spy on him from afar.
In addition to the hoarders you also have mothers and their children. Why it has become Ok to allow your small child to run uncontrollably through out a public place I do not know. Then there are the stroller mothers. This is the category I fit into, if you ever go shopping with me and observe me committing the following crime, please smack me. I'd say about 90% of stroller moms are blockage offenders. A blockage offender is defined as follows:
A person (typically a mother) who stops in the middle of a hallway (or thruway) leaving the stroller she is pushing in the middle of said hallway. Creating a tripping hazard to those around her.
A blockage offender can usually be found checking out the mall kiosks or end caps in stores like Walmart, Target etc.
Again, please slap me if you ever see me commit such an act. Needless to say, I encountered all of the above and then some during my short shopping trip. I used to loathe shopping, nothing I was going to buy could possibly make up for the shit I had to deal with to get it. Now that I have a baby though, I deal with it better because I am typically buying things for her. I have made a step up from loathing to hating because of my little girl.
As if my visit to the mall last weekend was not torture enough, I had to go back mid week. After my second visit, I remembered a ninth grade civic class assignment I had. The assignment was to create a law. You had to outline the law and how it would be enforced. My law: Pedestrian Traffic Law. I got an A- on it. My teacher (who for the life of me I cannot remember his name) liked the law but said that my enforcement was slightly flimsy. He just didn't see that it could be properly enforced. I agreed, if I had disagreed I would have already submitted the damn thing to congress by now.
On another note, how awful is it that I barely remember any of my teacher's names from my 12 years in grade school? My sisters can easily name off teachers from as far back as first grade and they have been out of school way longer then me. What has my memory come to?
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