...beneath these tragic waves
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and I beheld a great chasm
Nov 05, 2001

Our mall, of which contains a supposed 120 stores, all of little to no use to me, is a place I rarely visit. Consider that rarely means I go once a week at least to get Japanese food, and you'll see how rarely I go. I never go to shop, we'll say. Though, indeed, I never actually "shop" anywhere. I "buy stuff". And while that specific phrases makes me feel more masculine, it always seems to imply I'm out to buy a thing of pop-tarts and a tape dispenser and nothing more.

On a rare occasion of "buying stuff", I was in the very depths of the mall, away from all food and accessory shops, when I beheld a mall walker. You've likely witnessed these odd folk, pumping those little legs like their endless circle around the place will get them somewhere.

This one I saw was a new breed. Not so much a walker as a brisk walker, yet that didn't fit at all. This person was on the very point at which jogging and walking collide, for which I had no name. After an overly-long discussion about it with another days later, "swiftly walking" we officially dubbed her act.

As I watched her blinding speed, her jaw set with fierce determination and head bobbing to the beat of her bright pink Walkman, I saw that she rapidly was approaching the escalator which, as I recalled from earlier, was not working. In turn, an act of physical effort was required to descend those steps. Heaven forbid.

Now, I'm not sure how many of you have been on a stopped escalator. I'm guessing most. If so, I'm sure you've noticed the odd sensation of moving, yet not moving, that it gives when you try to go down them by doing the work yourself. I'm not sure if it is the colors of the steps or the mental thought that "hey, I shouldn't have to do this" or a combination of the two or something else completely, but whatever it may be, you always end up going a good deal faster than you should be which often times can lead to embarrasment and even death. So for this reason I could understand, for a moment, a part of what this woman did, but only a small sliver at all.

As she approached the edge, she caught sight of the stopped machine and put on the brakes, her mall-specific tread shoes leaving a 2 foot black mark of "$3.95" where she had skidded to a halt. While doing so, she threw her hands in the air and said aloud "wooooah!" and her eyes widened as if she stood before a great gulf. In addition, she wiggled her arms in a circular manner as people tend to do when they are about to fall off a roof. She was 5 feet from the "drop".

Perplexed and obviously beaten, she stood before her obstacle and stared. I expected, being a mall walker, she'd have accepted this task gladly, since she was trying to healthen up, postpone death and all that jive. An amiable goal, if not the most efficient route to it. She had to have been motionless there, peering over the side on her tip-toes for a good 20 seconds, considering. And, as if the toil were too great for her unprepared shell, she turned and went back from whence she came, going slowly, visibly shaken by the catastrophic event.

Yet another reason I'll never understand them.

fiends
Someone has arrived here recently by searching for "chaney is my bitch" on google. Is this a well-planned message or coincidence? Like the whole tootsie-pop thing, the world may never know.

devolve | evolve

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