I hate malls

So I had to go take my daughter to the mall to redeem a gift card she received for her birthday... which was a full three months ago. I hadn't exactly been putting it off... well, okay... maybe I had been putting it off. I hate malls, you see. I dislike them on a deep, inner, physical level. In fact, my reaction to being in a mall is often fatigue to the point where I can barely imagine escaping alive and to make my way home, reduced to napping in the fetal position to recover.

Crowded stores of any kind can be almost as bad, but there is something about a mall that just sets the alarms in my reptilian brain to blaring. There have been times when I've convinced myself that the people watching is good there. I've been known to enjoy a movie or two when the theater is located in a mall, but just browsing store after store after store... even window shopping... makes me ill. I find the materialism on display revolting. I find myself losing faith in humanity.

The really sad part is that most malls don't even have the safe haven of a bookstore anymore. What's up with that?

The next time my daughter gets a gift card for her birthday, I hope it comes complete with a ride to the mall. She picked out some cute clothes and I am happy that she enjoyed the experience. I'm not, however, looking forward to ever stepping foot in a mall again. This might be one of those things I've just come of age on. Don't like 'em. Don't wanna like 'em. Not going to go to one again... if I can help it.