Why I Hate The Mall Essay -- essays research papers

Why I Hate the Mall     I hate shopping places. No, you dont understand. I authentically hate shoppingmalls. I think sitting at the nutrition Court near the Burger King for one hour hasserved only to evoke my displeasure with these gaudy monstrosities. The onlyreason Im here is because nothing else in the town of Poughkeepsie, NY. seemsto catch my interest long enough for me to take notice.     I got here noon-ish I think. I had to take a taxi since none of my non-pedestrian friends were testamenting to roll out of bed to give me a ride. "Yourewaking me up why? The Mall? You insane?" *click*. If in that location is anything inPoughkeepsie worse than the mall, it would be Poughkeepsie taxi cabs. I nevertacit why it is that each and every one of them halt air freshners which be so putrid smelling, they make one long for the odor of a New York Citycabbies "natural cologne". After enduring disco biscuit minutes of the cabb ies "lemmetell ya whats wrong with this country", I finally delineate to my destination.     As in brief as I got there, I began to think astir(predicate) how sad it is that themall has very lots become a component part of American life. The Chinese have their rice,we have our malls. Does anyone else see a occupation with having oer one-thousandof these gaudy monstrosities across the country? Despite the fact that the sequenceof eighties-decadence has passed, the malls keep coming, and they keep gettingbigger. Its like something out of an Ed wood flick.     I concoct reading an article about how bad its gotten. The largestmall in America has 425 retail shops, 4.2 million square feet of space, over 13thousand free greennessing spaces, 44 escalators, and cost $625 million dollars tobuild. Oh, did I mention that there is a full blown amusement park in the centerof it all. Its just sick. When I was in Freeport, I remember hearing a radioshow which was running a contest. The wampum? A trip to the largest mall inAmerica Pretty soon, youll have family vacations to the mall. I can see it now.A room at the Hilton (which will be inside the mall of course). Dad goesHermans. Mom goes to Ann Taylor. The babys romp at the amusement park. A pieceout of Norman Rockwells Americana.     When I went inside, I became dizzy at the sight ... ... anything. It seemslike such a tease. The kid is going to want to buy something, whether its a newSega game or a Matchbox car. Eventually, the woman relents and buys the soughtafter item. For the moment, the kid is satiated.     Three boys, no more than fifteen years of age, passing game into the food court.Their pants are sagging, caps turned back upwards. They approach the counter at theBurger King and mull over what theyre having. While ordering, they find time tohit on the cashier. Shes older, and most credibly out of their league, but t hatdoesnt deter their efforts. She gives them an annoyed smile and requests thecash. They oblige and throw in a last ditch effort to woo her. She smilespolitely. The boys walk away, joshing each other about their valiant attempts.     As they walk away, Ive disembodied spirit as though Ive absorbed enough culture forone afternoon. I feel relieved to be able to go home. Once back on the saferconfines of Vassar campus, I breathe a sigh of relief. Its immature though,because deep down I know. Somehow, some way, no matter how much I dont want to,Ill wind up at the Poughkeepsie Galleria soon enough.