#178 - Don't Like Malls
I'm not a big shopper and I don't like malls. I don't like the crowds and I also don't like it when the mall's quiet... and I become a magnet to sales help. The music often annoys me and the strong scents make my eyes water.
With only 22 days until Scott and Chali's wedding, I hit the mall today. I already have two maybe dresses at home, but it's time to make a decision.
At Macy's, I rushed past the cosmetics department in search of formal dresses. I probably looked like the perfect candidate for a makeover, but I shook my head towards 2 different beauticians. I didn't have time for beauty advice.
I avoided the lurking older saleswoman near the "formal wear" and snatched 6 dresses, before dashing to the fitting room. Trying on dresses can be exhausting, but I was efficient and I have tons of energy these days.
But why can't I zip myself up anymore? Is it because I turned 60, 6 months ago? Or is this recent inflexibility due to my hormone blocking drugs? I actually asked a stranger for help.
Mother of the Groom Hair
I wasn't in love with any of the 6 dresses. I wasn't in love with my hair either. A year ago I started growing my hair back.
I thought I'd have more than this for a November wedding. But my friend reminded me yesterday, that the focus at the wedding will not be on my hair. Good reminder!
Luckily I still had lots of energy, since I needed to make the cross country hike to Dillard's. The mall was fairly quiet on a Wednesday morning, which meant there were fewer shoppers to dodge.
But there were also no crowds to hide me from the sales people standing beside their kiosks... looking for victims. I tried to remember my daughter's advice. "Don't be so nice, Mom. Avoid eye contact." I scurried along, close to the shop entrances, but I was still invited to taste this and smell that. I was also invited to answer questions.
I made it halfway through the mall when I heard an older voice behind me. "Excuse me Ma'am..." Those are the very words I usually ignore, but the voice made me turn back. An older, African American woman, wearing a fanny pack, was obviously doing a mall walk. But she had a question.
Back of My Head
I halted my dash and walked towards her to hear her question. "Are those natural curls?" She asked, while we continued to walk in the same direction. I chuckled to put her at ease with my answer. "Oh, they're post chemo curls!" She didn't seem to react, which made me wonder if my answer surprised her. In fact what answer was she hoping for? And what did the back of my head look like anyway? And why were my eyes picking that moment to tear up from my mall allergy issues? Now this poor woman would think I was emotional!
A few moments later she responded. "I lost my hair with chemo, too. It was harder losing my hair than my breasts." Then it made sense why she stopped me. I made an attempt to bond with the sweet looking woman. "Yes, it's tough isn't it." But she didn't have much else to say, which again made me wonder why she'd stopped me. If I'd answered, "Yes, my curls are natural." Would she have had more to say? Since she'd brought up the curls, I wanted to ask, "Wasn't your hair curly before cancer? Do you have tricks?" But of course I didn't. Usually this kind of people encounter would sort of delight me, but it felt odd. We chatted awkwardly a bit longer before going our separate ways.
An Odd Encounter
I spotted the woman a couple more times as she zigzagged in the mall. We didn't greet again, or I would have been tempted to say, "Do you like my curls?"
Because our slightly awkward encounter reminded me of the "Go Dogs Go" book that I adored as a child. I felt like we were the 2 dog characters who repeatedly meet in passing... one asking the other, "Do you like my hat?" before moving on.
I'm already a bad shopper, but I was suddenly feeling rattled and less patient. I found nothing at Dillard's and headed back through the mall, aiming towards home.
I spotted the woman again, striking up a conversation with a younger African American woman. The young woman had curly hair and her gestures told me, she was answering questions about her hair.
At home I continued wondering about the woman and wondering about my hair. I glanced at a photo from another shopping attempt and I thought.
The curly-head-image was one that I never would recognize as my own. So maybe the back of my head is kind of fun. Maybe I'll miss these curls. My hair is already getting straight in areas.
As for the woman... Was she just curious? Was she plain lonely? Was she a pickpocket and I'm missing my wallet? Or was just friendly, in an odd way? I guess I could go mall walking tomorrow and find out. Except, I don't like malls.
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I started this complaining list/blog, in May 2016. I posted 200 gripes about my breast CANCER and then I was done.
On March 13, 2020, I started venting all over again, when another disease (starting with a C) interfered with my life. This time it was the invasion of COVID and it affected every person. I ranted for a year, until I got my COVID vaccine in March 2021.
CORONARY Artery Disease was the reason I restarted this blog on September 26, 2021. This time it was my hubby Don, who was dealing with a worry that started with the letter "C".
Coronavirus and Cancer, Coronary Artery Disease! All are evil, but none can totally get me down... if I vent! I usually end up feeling a little more positive at the end of each post!
Navigating This Mess!
The most recent post is at the top, from coronary posts in 2022, back to cancer posts in 2016.
To find past posts, look below the "Archives" section, to find "Categories".