So You Think You Can Stalk, Part IV

[I'm back from my hiatus!]

The last series [High Holy Days] proved rather difficult after Day 2 or 3 (as you can tell from the slow, but steady deterioration of quality in my prose, and in the stretching I had to do to find related Semitic topics). This one, however, does not seem to wane with each passing entry. Maybe it's because the narrative is unforced and the story so captivating!

I arrived at the mall around 5:30p.m. after work on Saturday. Remembering that Ryan exited from the food court the week before, I too drove around to deposit my Prius near that fast food mecca. I consciously (but casually) checked each of the vehicles I passed on the way to the mall entrance. A small, dark cloud portending failure began to materialize above me: none of the cars matched the vehicle from the preceding week.

Not to worry, I assured myself. He might be on his way, or just parked in an aisle outside of view from me. Hope was high; I would see my destiny manifest!

Making my way from the Sears end of the mall toward the Macy's end, I noted several fellow shoppers. My powers of perception have improved appreciably since I started blogging--and they were already fairly keen before. I attribute this change mostly to the fact that I know I will need to recount details in my blog, so I assiduously scribble down information on my mental notepad for retrieval later.

A man and his junior high-looking son were shopping together. Interesting, fathers rarely go shopping with their brood. Maybe the mother is deceased, or ill? There was a very homely lady on a bench just outside See's Candy. She seems to be resisting nature's best attempts to beautify her. She really could have been more comely, but her misapplied makeup, the styling of her hair, and her Jane Eyre frock belied a prettier woman beneath. Then I passed by a couple of Korean ganstas...or the emaciated remains of what were once Korean ganstas. Despite their oversized clothing, their sunken-in cheeks and broomstick-like arms told me that this duo had a combined weight of about 120 pounds. Oh stars! It's amazing how many useless details I can commit to memory, if I only try!

I reached the other side of the mall without success. No matter, I'll just retrace my path, and keep searching. I crossed paths with a small band of punk-looking, crazy haired teens, but they were the wrong group. Then I passed by a diminutive Filipino, but his hair was too normal. To make matters worse, I was struck by a (very poignant) urge to visit the little boys' room, but my determination resisted. I knew that in that moment while I relieved my bladder, Ryan Conferido would pass by the restroom, and my dream would remain but a dream. I persisted against my carnal desire--my resolve compelled me to ignore the call of the urinal, which beckoned me like the sirens to Odysseus. I would not forsake my destiny for the paltry pleasure of peeing.

On my third pass through the mall, I passed by the father-son shoppers, and the skeletal gangsters. I visited EB Games again, hoping Ryan had come back to return a purchase, or try out another game. Still no luck.

By the fourth pass I had lost much--if not most--of my will power. Although the desire to deposit my nitrogenous wastes had passed, I was overtaken by a more primal, instinctual urge. I wanted to do a little shopping. I stopped in BR, the GAP, and this store that sells puzzles and calendars. In that last shop I was converted from a life-long capitalist to a red Commie. [See HHD 7, but be warned, only the final 2 paragraphs are funny.] But this temporary switch will be the focus of another day's entry.

I took one final trip through the commerce-laden corridors of the mall, but to no avail. Looks like I'm moving on to "Plan B". Wish me luck!