Tuesday, February 26, 2008
I just got back from Florida last night, courtesy of a plane teeming with every type of asshole imaginable:
1. The Rude Businessman who is just so damn important and in such a hurry to go off and do important things that he winds up sodomizing other passengers with his carry on bag in an effort to flee the plane first. (Psst! Hey buddy-you're in coach. I think you've overestimated your Captain of Industry status.)
2. The Fart Factory seated in front of me.
3. The "people person" Flight Attendant who thinks that just because he has a voice like Isaac Hayes he can commandeer the fucking PL system for the entire flight. Nobody wants to hear your tired jokes about The Big Apple, pal.
However, the first couple of days we were in Florida, the weather wasn't so hot.
So I took this opportunity to go to Tyrone Square Mall.
I love Tyrone Square Mall.
I'm obsessed with it.
It has all these stores that you normally only find in crumbling ghetto malls that are set for demolition. Yet Tyrone is thriving.
After all, the Floridian goth kids need some place to go to wear their heavy boots and black velvet cloaks without melting. They mill around the food court in gloomy splendor, eating Auntie Anne's pretzels, confident that the airconditioning will preserve their eyeliner.
And when was the last time you went to a lovely clean mall and found:
That "E" is what gets me. Did they think it would convey a bit of "class"? Or are they trying to get shoppers to believe they're entering a mythical wonderland of Victorian pants vendors?
Every time I go I almost buy one, just because it's funny. Then I remember what they taste like.
They still have plenty of fake dog shit for sale to delight friends and family
-J.C. PENNY as an "anchor store"
Still full of cheap, nasty jewelry that will hang around 15-year-old necks for a total of 15 minutes. They still offer the same ear piercing deals too.
Honestly, it's all so...reassuring.