mt headed thing: Malls: The 14 Year Old's Domain

If I had to pinpoint the last age I was when I actually enjoyed going to the mall, it would have to be when I was 14. Ever since then, the place seems manic and a bit on the hellish side. However, something about 14 though, when you can't drive, and you have to choose a place to be dropped off, so you choose the mall since there's tons of places to go and lots of stimuli for your spry little 14 year old mind to absorb. And then there's the matter of the opposite sex. Who are also stranded there. You can put the moves on them. The lines. The futile attempt at being cool. Then you're like, hey, I'm Michael. What's your name? Cool. Nice. Yeah, you wanna, like, I don't know, like, give me your number and, I don't know, maybe we can, like, go out, like, sometime? And you are young and handsome. The handomest you'll ever be. And they are young and pretty. Close to the prettiest they'll ever be. And next thing you know, she's gone, and you're left holding her phone number. And you're friends come over to see how you did. And they're all impressed. Then you spray silly string at each other and get kicked out of the mall. Good times. Not so much, now. Now, the mall is for the most ardent shoppers. And, of course, the new crop of 14 year olds. It's their domain. And I'm like, so, like, cool with that.

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