Scenes from a Mall

Gary and I spent the day at the mall. Between 5 and 6, we split up. we went in different directions and each spent a little time doing our own thing.

Here’s what happened to me:
I had a pedicure. I had begged Gary to stay with me, because the pedicurists at the mall try to force me into small talk. As it turned out, the pedicurist was as disinterested in chit-chat as I was. Our only communication was when she communicated by tapping my calves when she wanted me to shift feet.

The pedicure started at 5. at 6 I woke up and my toes were painted. I have no idea if I snored. I tipped her $15 just in case.

Here’s what happened to Gary:
(And of course, since I was not there, you realize this is a dramatization based on first-hand accounts.)
Gary was walking up to the register in Macy’s when he saw a Macy’s employee get on the P.A. systems and announce:

“Mr. _____ ________, please return to your car in the back Macy’s parking lot.”

“What’s up with that?” Gary asked the employee.

“There’s a car in the back lot, and it smells. Bad. Like a dead animal. Like the trunk smells bad. Really bad. Like….”

“Like a rotting corpse?” Gary exclaimed because rotting corpses? That’s the first thing on Gary’s mind at all times. If it isn’t severed heads or botulism, it’s rotting corpses.

“Yeah. Just like that. I mean, I guess. But the police came, and they brought the dogs, and they said there was definitely a bad … like … like … a dead smell coming from … from … the trunk.”

(Dah dah dah and CUE the Dramatic chipmunk.)

Yep. So, according to Gary the police ran the plates and that’s how Mr. ______ _________ ended up being summoned back to his car.

I had just fallen asleep during a pedicure, so I was relaxed enough to suggest that Mr. ______ _________ might have made a love connection at Mid-Rivers mall and forgotten his groceries.