The Mall: Best Enjoyed When Intoxicated
My blogs usually aren't this stupid, but I just felt like telling you all about my lame odyssey.
So I had to take my enchanted Volvo to the "Specialist Import Car Center" (a nifty name to both make you feel special and give just cause to over-charge) to get more magic put in it. It is really close to my house, so I had no qualms with walking home. The weather was awesome and coupled with the fact that I had nothing to do today and was in a remarkably good mood, I ended up not really wanting to go home. The thought of taking a walk through my methy neighborhood was not particularly appealing, so I went to the mall.
Now, I hate the mall; it only serves as a meeting place for the local disenfranchised youth and old people. However, being about 500 yards from my house, it is a freaking awesome place to get socks and over-priced cat food. With the intent of getting socks and blowing too much cash on books, that's where I ended up.
I figured I would get a drink at the Mustard Seed because, quite frankly, drinking at the mall was a suprisingly agreeable prospect. Got up to the bar and ordered a Guinness, gave the barman ten and got eight back. Needless to say, I was shocked and thought "what the hell? Two-dollar Guinnesses are unheard of!". Turned out to be happy-hour, so I drank several in under twenty minutes.
I wasn't really drunk as much as I was just feeling awesome. It made my mall trip amazing. I tried to haggle with the lady at the pet store over the price of a collar. Needless to say, mall workers are obviously not accustomed to haggling. I had to pay full price. If only this were Morocco...
Next, some Army recruiters tried to lure me into their office. Bad idea. I had fun and took the conversation in circles and asked a bunch of stupid questions ("Can you guarantee that I become a sniper? I play alot of Call of Duty and am pretty good...") before revealing that I was a Marine. Now, I didn't do this to be a dick to Soldiers, I did it because they were the most unprofessional recruiters ever. The Sergeant that came up to me was a young black woman (I only say this so that you understand her mannerisms) approached me and said "Mmmm *lip-smack* Was-up? Ya wanna join the Army?".
The thrilling finale to my mall experience was buying socks and going back to the pet store and playing with the bunnies.
So that was my blog, and if you didn't enjoy it, you are probably a fascist. Pimps up, hos down.