I can't walk all the way out of the Mall stained and soaking, then cross all the way to the other side. Patting my arm, David tells me to sit on the bench. There is little choice. I sit here by myself, fragrant in front of Sam Goody's Record Store in the most gigantic shopping center in the history of the world. I check my watch, fish through my purse, pretend to hunt for something, act busy and preoccupied.
People approach the bench but they never sit down.
Drenched and miserable, I sense their stares and do not look up. I will never eat out again. I will never go out anywhere again in public. I will stay home the rest of my life. David wheels over next to me and kisses me as he hands me my jacket.