In Which I Digress

There was something I didn’t tell you about.

Digression! Actually, this time it doesn’t involve porn dreams with Mom, which, since you ask, I continue to have, based on the XXX-rated movie I saw in my dream last night. It was charged to Mom’s hotel room when we were visiting some crack slum in Chicago. Instead …

It involves the visit to West County Mall on Good Friday.

Digression! Oh, and if your in-laws are Charismatic Catholic, the answer to “What did you have for dinner Friday?” is not “Sausage Pizza.” That answer would be Wrong. Especially if Friday was the Good one. That response might have even been followed by your Mother-in-law saying, “What do you mean Baptists eat meat on Fridays? I thought all Christians couldn’t eat meat on Friday.” At any rate …

West County Mall is not Gary’s mall of choice. Gary prefers Mid-Rivers Mall. If you are not a St. Louisan, West County Mall is where the lower-privileged-class shops. (*Sings: “West County Mall … where the lower-privileged-class shops … laaaa …” *breathy* “Under the Doooove …” ) Mid-Rivers Mall is where my class shops. That would be the middle class. Well, upper-middle.

The difference is that I can go to West County Mall and not be intimidated. West County Mall scares Gary. Just a little. The standard for Mall Fear is Gary’s reaction to Plaza Frontenac (*Sings: “Plaza Frontenac … where the Upper-privileged-class shops …. laaaa.”) A few minutes in Plaza F. and Gary’s self-esteem starts scratching its imaginary lice. He gets a little less twitchy in West County Mall. As I said, Gary feels most at home in Mid-Rivers Mall.

Digression! Oh, and if you yourself have to go to an intimidating mall like Plaza F. because it’s the only place with a Sur La Table, here’s what you do: wear a hat. It works the best in winter. You stalk in wearing a cloth coat and a winter hat and fix a saleslady in your sights and she’ll sail right over. Anyway …

West County Mall won because it has a Lush store secreted away in the Macy’s, as well as the Lindt store, and the clincher, the California Pizza Kitchen.

Digression! Does your California Pizza Kitchen have name tags for the staff that says where they are from? Ours used to (or at least the one in the Galleria did. (*Sings: “The Galleria … where the upper-middle-class shops and then are sometimes assaulted by the roving hordes of teenagers … laaaa …”)) Last night it seemed the California Pizza Kitchen name tags were gone, or perhaps I just didn’t notice them. Or perhaps, the CPK staff has picked up on the paranoia St. Louisans have about Out-Of-Towners (aka, Those Who Did Not Attend High-School Here).)

Digression! Digression! I had the chopped salad, probably the third chopped salad I’ve had this month. I don’t know what’s so comforting about having all my vegetables and protein chopped exactly the size of the corn, the smallest part of the chopped salad. Since it’s all the same size, it’s all a surprise.

So, anyway, that’s the whole truth. I credit the Lush/Macy’s store with seducing Gary into West County Mall. I suppose they have subliminal muzak in that mall, things that say “Spending is better than mending” and “Soap is cheap! Buy all you want!” and “No one still follows that rule about meat on Good Friday…”