Dead Malls and Long Summers with Peter Cetera
If you leave me now
I work in the dead mall, off of the old highway that no one uses anymore. The only food here is an Auntie Anne’s and a crappy pizza place. Both have food that is perpetually five hours old.
But in the parking lot there is a beacon of light and spice on a hot summer’s day - Taco Bell.
I dust miniatures and other collectible tchotchkes when we are not busy in the gift shop where I work, which is most of the time.
The shop’s customers order their porcelain teddy bears, designer dolls and Christmas village pieces months ahead of time. It is literally Christmas in July in here, and it’s a kind of slow moving, twinkly hell.
We wrap the customers’ purchases up for free. It’s a service we provide to the classy people who frequent the shop. I’m pretty sure most of them have it done just because they can.
As I wrap their porcelain treasures my mind wanders to the paper that wraps around my lunch burrito. Will it be bean or shredded chicken today? I imagine the paper, crispy and warm, and the spicy promise within comforts me.
The mall’s playlist has precisely one song that makes my life bearable, and that song is “If You Leave Me Now” by the band Chicago.
