There sure are a lot of strollers in any given mall around lunchtime. All I want to do is cruise into the food court and grab some quick mall food. I feel like the little green blob from Frogger. Busy mothers with unrestrained children zoom around the mall. Mall security must be poorly compensated for they wander aimlessly doing nothing while ignoring the chaos unfolding around them.
Today, for instance, I have just finished my sesame chicken and dump my tray in the robotic trash device. This young mother (on a cell phone no less) has two babies in a double-trouble stroller along with a bonus third child running amuck. Some brilliant idea sweeps through her soccer-mom brain and she hands over the reigns of the stroller to her 5 year-old demoness. Without hesitation or doubt, the little beast-child takes off at full throttle right at me. The T-bone collision with my knee warrants a quick "I'm sorry" from the mother mid-sentence. I'm sorry I interrupted your conversation, Mom. I should be the one apologizing to you. Perhaps I will pioneer a new mall that requires all customers to be at least 16 years old to enter. Or at least 36 inches tall. Or both. Would such a change actually draw in swarms of men who long ago gave up on malls? Nah... I think us fellas are burned out for good.