the mall

I have a designer watch. We bought it on our honeymoon. My watch had broken, or gotten lost (I can't remember), and I had been looking for one for a while. Anyway, Chris got the new one for me as a gift. And last week the battery finally died, so today I went to have it replaced.

To get the battery replaced, I had to go to the mall. I hate the mall. Your average run-of-the-mill mall, I can handle. But ours is different. It recently underwent a big renovation that changed it from a normal mall to a "collection" of high end stores. The old section is still there with typical mall stores, but there's a new wing that contains stores so expensive and exclusive that most people would feel out of place just walking past them.

Guess which part of the mall I had to go to today to have my battery replaced? Yup.

The luxury wing of the mall is so incredibly unwelcoming. It has a completely different atmosphere from the rest of the mall. And, it's usually almost empty. Not only can normal shoppers not afford to shop at these stores, but they're not even interested in walking around because the stores are such unfriendly places.

I was kind of hoping the place I was looking for wouldn't be too far down the wing. Of course it was at the very end, across the way from Louis Vuitton. Great. I knew exactly what this would be like. I entered the store- let's call it "Hucci"- half expecting someone to step in my path and escort me back out again. Everything in the store was black and shiny. The lighting was dim. It was scary, to be honest. The unsmiling salesgirl wearing the Hucci uniform of all black clothing paired with a tight ponytail did nothing to quell my fear. She clearly did not want to help me. When I explained that my watch battery needed to be replaced, she gave me a confused look as if she wondered why someone like me was in her store looking for a battery for my cheap watch. I actually had to clarify that it was indeed a Hucci watch, and that I was told to take it to Hucci for a battery replacement. Oh. My. God. So. Snobby. It turned out that I could actually get the battery replaced somewhere else and only had to have Hucci do it if the watch was still under warranty. Rather than offering to replace my battery anyway, the robot salesgirls (one was pregnant- OMG a Hucci babybot!!) made it clear that they would have to "send it out" and had no interest in taking care of my watch. That was fine with me, considering that I wasn't even sure their unsmiling, expressionless faces were even human.

It occurred to me, standing there, that these people thought they were better than me. And I thought, "You work in a freaking MALL, people! Seriously? You think you're better than me because you dress in black, behave like robots and rub elbows with rich people? Get over yourselves!" I didn't say any of that out loud, although in retrospect I wish I had said something to remind them that they do, in fact, belong to the human race, a friendly smile wouldn't kill them, and- oh yeah- they're not exactly living the high life if they have to work at the mall.

There was a watch store conveniently located next to Hucci. This is where Hucci sends all of its rejects, although it was almost as snobby. I had to leave my watch (oh the horror, I have to go back there on Monday!), and then made a hasty- but proud- retreat back to the normal area of the mall. There were actual people there, wearing real clothing and talking and walking around and chasing their toddlers, and eating food court food. What a relief. 

I made one more stop to get some hand soap, and picked up a new candle called "Autumn". And dagnabbit, it smells like autumn! It's burning right now and the whole house smells of apples and leaves, and a hint of balsam. Oh, and the salesgirl- a normal human being who was actually willing to smile and make conversation- even asked where I got my cheapo sweater because she liked it! Take that, horse-faced Hucci girl! I hope that tight ponytail makes all your hair fall out. Oops, scratch that. Not nice at all.

 Never mind those candy wrappers in the background...

At least I'm home now, safe and sound, and enjoying my normal, imperfect, human life very much. And, after this is all over I'll have another three years before my watch needs another battery.