Window Shopper

The mall is her world, if you can call it a world, but a world none-the-less. It’s a world of music, of electronics, of fashion and accessories. A world of junk that we have been brainwashed to think we need. Attention shoppers. It is a world of commerce and of greed. A world built on the almighty dollar and clearance sales. Hallways of supply and demand within neighborhoods of sales and marketing. This is a world of today. This is her world and this is how she has always remembered it.
She is Alexis Christi, a young woman with a popular sounding name, but with a not so popular life. She had friends...once. They had all drifted away, continuing their lives out of the back hole of a town they had once called home. So now, she had faded into obscurity, finishing her final year of High School doomed to be the loner. The best years of your life indeed. She thinks to herself as she watches the trendy kids with their Barbie and Ken lives. She knows that she is forever doomed to be the outsider, sentenced to be alone. This is her fate.
Every Friday, she awakes with the afternoon sun and the annoying sound of the alarm clock going off with its high pitched shrill. Beep-Beep-Beep-Snooze. Thank God for the snooze button. Fifteen extra minutes to sleep. Fifteen extra minutes to hide from the world. Beep-Beep-Crash-Thump. The sound of clock against wall to floor. Oops...I think I killed it. She crawls out from under her cocoon of warmth and into the cold reality.
She stumbles into the bathroom half asleep and cranky, reemerging a half-hour later wide-eyed and refreshed. She dons a pair of grey camouflage pants, a clean white wife-beater, and a red flannel shirt over the wife beater, unbuttoned. She grabs her favorite jacket, a green army flack jacket, decorated with patches, buttons, safety pins, and spikes of all sizes. She slides her wallet into her back pocket and buckles the end of the chain to her leather belt. Now it’s off to her world.
The mall is her world, if you can call it a world, but a world none-the-less. It’s a world of music, of electronics, of fashion and accessories. A world of junk that we have been brainwashed to think we need. It’s a world of commerce and of greed. A world built on the almighty dollar. The electronic sliding glass doors open at the touch of a button. How stoner friendly. She steps into her world with a sly smile. That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for economics. Ahhh...I love the smell of commerce in the morning. She begins to wander.
The network of consumer and supplier, pay or steal, bid or pass, buy low and sell high. Not her. She’s not really interested in buying anything, just looking. This is her world and she is in control. Her mind flowing with random thoughts of the day. Never interested in purchasing anything, just looking. Window shopping. She follows her usual path through the economic maze of monetary exchange. Whatever happened to e-commerce? These must be the poor folk who can’t afford to enter the twenty-first century. These are her people. Technology will be our downfall. We will become slaves to the machines, not vice-versa.
She stops in front of a large store window. Oh look, it’s the Gap. She watches the preppies chasing the latest trends just for the sake of popularity. Such lemmings. Not a full brain between the lot of them.

“Did you hear the newest song by the popular artist?” Mind control. Subliminal messages within the lyrics.

“So-and-so is so hot in that generic sitcom!” Don’t you think you need the few remaining brain cells you have left?

Lemmings all of them. A pathetic game of follow the leader with no clear winner. She watches the group of teenage girls a couple of moments longer. What drama queens these fucks are.

“Oh, I wonder who will take me to the prom.” I hate the fucking prom queen.

The high lemming. All hail the high lemming! Hail! Hail! I hope she grows up to be a crack whore. A fitting punishment for that self-absorbed bitch.
Her journey continues. Her eyes looking over everyone she passes. Wow. What a variety. The great melting pot that we call the United States of America. This odd soup served in the heart-land of business. She moves through the stream of pedestrians like a ghost in the darkness. Unseen by anyone. Not even a single glance. She stops at her store. The one place she feels at home. A place where she feels welcome. A place where everyone knows her name. No, not Cheers. The bookstore. Reading is her passion. The one thing that keeps her going. This is what drives her.
Sure, she may not appear to be someone who would even care about the written word. Looks can be deceiving. Never judge a book by it’s cover. No pun intended. What an overwhelming surge of information. She wanders through the different isles, her fingers gently brushing across the spines. Coontz, Anne Rice, Shakespeare, Lewis Carroll, Tolkien, Poe. Authors of all genres. Hours feel like minutes. The time flies when your having fun. My head hurts. Information overload.

“Attention shoppers...the mall will be closing in five minutes.”

Already? This is her world and it closes in five minutes. She wanders out to the parking lot, nearly empty, and heads home. Tomorrow is another day and another visit to her world...window shopping.