A Private Rant on the Mall
By: Connie Song
Tags: Malls, Coupon, Pet Peeves, Personal Essay, This Happened To Me

Remember when we used to physically shop in the local mall?

Just thinking about the delicious smell of the Cinnabons makes me nostalgic and want to go back.

There’s so many things I miss about spending twenty minutes in a Bath and Body Works, sniffing their latest lemon and English lavender scents, along with new seasonal offerings.

At the time, I had a fetish for light, airy, clean-smelling liquid foaming soaps and usually never left the store without buying at least six assorted bottles, even as gifts for my friends. The popular retail chain had crisp, distinctive shopping bags with their logo, that for some reason, always made me feel good about my purchase.

But, that’s not what this rant is about. Right now, I seem to be focused on three things that used to piss me off about the mall.

Mall Coupons

You would think coupons are a good thing, right?

They announce huge savings of up to 25 or 50% off in a big, bold font to grab your attention and motivate you to drive or bus it to the mall. What you don’t notice, until you get educated in consumer coupon etiquette, are the number of exclusions in small print. If you forgot your reading glasses, then all you really need to know is that almost all the designer merchandise and items on your shopping list are most likely excluded from the perks of that coupon.

There is another thing about coupons that peeves me. How do you pronounce the word? Is it coo-pon or Q-pon?

Before you assume I have no life, let me move on to the next pet peeve

Escalators

There are two things that annoy me about escalators.

I was fine with riding enclosed escalators, until they renovated my mall with a more open escalator floor plan. Macy’s still had the closed wall design, but Sears had an open birds-eye view. I seem to suffer from vertigo when I’m in Sears.

That means searching for the elevator — only to find one with an out-of-order sign scotch-taped to the portal.

Somehow, I make it up to the top floor (with the help of an exceptional sales associate or manager) and the anxiety is forgotten, once I start shopping.

The second thing that annoys me is when kids have to play, tamper with, kick, jump or try to stop the escalator. If you’ve never witnessed this, you’re truly blessed.

I have a friend who tells me that out-of-order escalators are her pet peeve and of course, I cannot disagree.

Alarmed Security Devices

Let me be more specific, it’s not the actual device that boils my blood.

What I hate (and I don’t like to use that word), is when I’m walking out of the store with my receipted, bagged purchase, then the store’s security alarm starts shrieking. This is followed by the polite, perhaps frazzled security guard stopping me for the receipt. Of course, the guard is not equipped to remove the device. If I’m lucky I can get the tag detached at the nearest register.

I have worked retail, so these things don’t really upset me. But what I have noticed over the years is the discontinuation of the courtesy apology. For some reason, it’s become hard to say, “I’m sorry” (for your inconvenience or whatever.) Instead, you may get a perfunctory or cheerful, “No problem” or “Have a nice day.” At least, that’s what I’ve noticed. It just seems to be a shift in our cultural mindset and venacular, making it a common occurrence. I must be getting old.

So, here’s the real clincher about the security-alarmed-device. I needed a lovely evening bag for my cousin’s wedding out of state. I went to a small, boutique-style store in my local mall and paid more than I should have, but it was just beautiful, and I was happy.

It wasn’t until I was at the pre-wedding festivities in Boston, that I noticed the security tag still attached to the outside bottom seam of the elegant bag, and that the weirdly-shaped security alarm blended in with the color of the merchandise. I asked a family member to quickly drive me to the local mall in Boston to try to remove the tag — and of course, I didn’t have my receipt. That actually was not the problem. The dilemma was that no one had the particular apparatus needed to remove that tag. You would think I would have learned my lesson by now. Fool me once, you know the rest.

Takeaway

Do you have nostalgic memories about the mall? Seize the moment and remember.

I would love to hear your soul-cleansing rant in my comments section or in a piece of your own. See if it makes you feel better — give it a try.