"Solitude in a Foreign Place"

How anti-climatic it is when you work up something for so long only for it to be different than what you anticipated. The context behind my dismay is my mall trip with Lynn.

Once we got to the mall, I was greeted by its familiar site, the large building that reminded me that some places in this city don't retain the themes of desolation and desperation. We entered through a door on the side of the mall and quite instantly I was put into a sense of childlike wonder. Although the commotion of so many voices echoing the entire building was almost enough to make you deaf if you were not used to it. Yet, the mall was always a nice place to observe, even with its flaws. 

Lynn caught me in my trance and proceeded to lightly yank my arm and ask, "Where would you want to go first Johnny?" With those words I can stare directly into her intentions. She's giving me that look, the look that says, 'please take charge of the situation,' but damnit, I am no person to take charge and in no desire to attempt such a thing. She brought me here, and yet she expects me to grab her by the hand and escort her to a location of my choosing. 

I give her an unintrigued look, I believe she feels the impact of my discomfort immediately as her smile begins to fade, with that I add, "I mean, that is completely up to you." With those words I sound bland once more, I assume this is just how men deal with these situations. As uncomfortable as I am I get this sense of not wanting to bring emotional harm to Lynn, but to my surprise she doesn't hesitate to swiftly and firmly respond to my proposition.

She then gives me a look of that of a pout, lips squeezed together, eyebrows pointing down, and an overall aura of ingenuine disappointment as if it were a play, "Oh come on, just choose a store." She responds to my proposition with a mandate, and now I feel forced to oblige her command. 

Out of fear I open my mouth, "Uh...let's go to...uh..." I give her a hesitated and nervous voice. I'm quite perplexed, placed in an area I've never been before. I don't believe I ever had this experience with another person. My hand rubs the back of my head, my legs stay locked together, and my other hand plays with the folds in my white t-shirt.

With a dramatic sigh, "Fine then, you follow me." She says those words that mean a pyrrhic victory for my situation. Yet, I'm still completely outside of my comfort zone. Once again, my hand is grabbed, a foreign hand whose slightly smaller than my own takes a deep grip around my untainted wrist. This time she had grabbed my wrist then as we ventured forward, her own hand moved into my palm as if it were on some kind of timer. 

Now I'm not going to name any stores in the place, I don't know if that is copyright or not, but I will tell you the place she took me caught me by complete and total surprise. As we ventured through the mall, she eventually let go of my hand and I eventually followed her lead with more confidence. However, that confidence that I have gained would soon wither due to the sight that besets me.

I find myself at the entrance of a shop that I never shopped, and wood finish theming, the skateboards on the very back wall, and the shirts that had many blatant designs of things like aliens, skateboarding, and skeletons. I knew damn well where I was but I didn't know what this place was. A 'skater boy shop' you might refer to it as such. You would not be inaccurate in your description, but then I ask myself the elephant in the room. Why the hell did she bring me here?

The pretense to my entering of the establishment was an awkward pause, and all of my magical images of this experience fade away with the non-existent wind. There's no way I'm going in there, that's not the place for me. I'm not the kind of person who likes shopping at those kind of places. The consistent theme of my discomfort was worn on me like apparel, yet nobody seemed to notice my displacement in this foreign place. 

As we entered the store, I take notice of all the green beanies and arrangement of dickies. People seemed to share the exact same style of fashion, I even noticed a guy who had his sweatshirt under his t-shirt.... Compared to the average consumer here I dress very differently. I do not belong here, I usually wear more casual clothing, such as; a flannel with some jeans, or a white t-shirt with some jeans or cargo shorts. I keep my colors neutral and my designs minimal. I wouldn't wear a green beanie or brown dickies, it stands out too much and almost looks disastrous. This place is most definitely not my cup of tea and I cannot discern what will take place next.

"I'm going to look for something that I like, you should pick out something you like." Lynn then informs and instructs me on the situation at large, but I am only standing their uncomfortable hearing what she is saying. Then it dawns on me...'something that I like,' she doesn't wear these kinds of clothes. Right now her outfit is significantly more elegant than anything in this place. What the hell is she doing here and what the hell will she decide to purchase?

I put my hands up, but in an attempt act casual I place them to my side, "Nah, it's alright," I wave my arms around slightly and speak softer than normal, "I'll stick by you." I give her a hidden cry for help. I do not want to be on my own in this place. Oh god no, I would die here. I failed to mention the type of people I see here. Not only are their fashion decisions questionable, but everyone here is like a foot taller than me. I feel like the only guy who is under six foot, and significantly so. 

Giving me a budge, she speaks, "Come on now, at least go try something on." With those words she pushes me away. I get the feeling I must fend for myself now. I slowly part ways from Lynn and immediately realize the gravity of my situation. I do not look like any of these people, I know nothing about this place, and I'm expected to explore it. I'm tempted to just leave, but that would make me a major asshole. I can't ditch Lynn, but I don't want to be here. I have to come to terms with where I am and what is going on. With a new found inner acceptance of this setting I journey toward the front where my interest is peaked by a shelf of graphic t-shirts. These t-shirts had artwork of famous movies such as the Godfather, Friday, and a whole other mixture of mobster and gangster films. These shirts were cool, after admiring a selection of apparel that better compliments my style I pick up a shirt that shows Ray Liotta carrying a stack of bills on top of a pink palm tree background. Further inspection of the shirt had me utterly disappointed, when I unfolded it I witnessed that the graphic design was very small compared to the rest of the shirt. Then I refolded it and returned it on the shelf in its original place. Taking a closer look at the price tag I almost jump to see how expensive it was for how small the graphic was printed on the shirt. Sometimes this capitalist worlds makes me sick.

Lynn then walks by as I finish my disappointed browsing, "Hey I'm going to try some things on," she says these words in kind of a rush. I give a slight nod in agreement and more hastily than usual I see her enter a changing room in the distance. I continue to browse the disappointing collection of overpriced nonsense. I came across a cool hoodie that is over my budget, the worst part about this place is that there are decent items but they are worth way more than they should be. This place seems to be a capitalist reminder of favoritism. I hang around for a few minutes and stare into some random items to look like I belong here, unexpectedly I see Lynn come out of the dressing room empty handed, she charges toward me and switches to a more aggressive face. Leaning her head forward she halts next to me and violently grips my shoulder, "have you seriously not picked out anything here yet?! What have you been doing all this time, and with all these sales this is the best time to buy. Come on then, let's go." She expresses herself with great ferocity and I soon feel defenseless.

I get dragged to a corner a few stores down and I get the courage to ask, "What the fuck was that? You caused a scene?" I interrogated her, trying to present myself more firmly than I have done previously. 

She then gives me a nervous look, but after an instant she regains confidence, she opens up her bag, looks around, and tells me "Well I had to make a scene to distract the workers there from the fact that I just stole some shirts." She says with a proud smile.

I take a moment back to think, oh shit she just shoplifted from that place, what the hell. That is something I did not expect from her, and that is something I did not expect to become an accomplice to.