Mystery #14 Stacey and the Mystery at the Mall
I kind of loved this one when I was a kid, and I’m not sure why. The plot contrivance is ludicrous, even by BSC standards, and the ending is both disturbing and a bit offensive. On the other hand, I think I really just enjoyed the settings and descriptions of mysteries 10-15, with the exception of Dawn and the Dull Surfer Ghost. A library! A museum! A mall! I like those things! Also, I think I tend to like anything where the BSC has to get classified by their single-dimension traits, including Chapter 2s that use “clever” devices like charm bracelets or what animal would they be or what reality show would they star in? (Or is that one just me?) And in general, Ann and the ghosties’ attempts to come up with store names and descriptions are often hilarious.
Cover!
Well, I will begin by saying Claud’s flared pants and leather jacket are actually pretty cute, even if her pose is weird. Chic, sophisticated Stacey is wearing the junior miss version of an outfit my mom might wear to go to a church budget committee meeting, but her hair actually looks like it might have been permed at one point.
As for the rest of it, Hodges went hog-wild with kooky Escher perspective-I have an art history minor, and it still took me way too long to figure out he’s showing the underside of one escalator and another one angled away back and to the side. Because, to crib from mizzmarvel, what I’m looking for in my BSC covers is the bottom of a big damn escalator. But the best part is off to the sides, where we get a glimpse of the super-dibble, wild Zingy’s-and the front and center window display seems to be an empire waist, ankle-length pink maternity jumper over a high-necked long-sleeved blouse.
Even the Amish wouldn’t call that punk, and you could probably wear it without comment on an FLDS compound. Oh, Hodges.
And for a bonus, here's the British cover:
Dibbly sophisticated!
Chapter 1
Stacey gets back a report with an A+ on it and the teacher congratulates her, although she of course brags it’s not the first time she’s gotten an A or anything, Gawd. We’re in yet another Short Takes class, but this one, Math for Real Life, actually sounds relatively plausible and potentially educational-they learned about budgeting and balancing a checkbook and stuff, and then made imaginary investments in the stock market, which is the paper Stacey aced. She stops to explain Short Takes, and loses the marginal credit I gave her for being the sanest person in Modern Living by calling it “really cool.”
Anyway, Stace made mad money on the fake stock market, and now thinks she might want to be a trader on the stock exchange. For all the crap I give these books, I do feel I should take a moment for some small appreciation that Stacey is pretty consistently allowed to be interested in business, finance and math while being blonde and fashionable. For these books, that’s like mad radical feminism, not to mention an overabundance of character traits.
She then fritters away my good will by talking about how she might like to run a chain of stores because she’s a super shopper and she’s from New York, and she’s absurdly proud of being able to keep track fo what she spends when she shops and compare prices. She also calls herself a “culture vulture,” and I think the first rule of Culture Vulture Club is not calling yourself that. (And I grew up in a house with a poster of the First Folio tracking how many Shakespeare performances we’d seen.) This isn’t the first time Stacey has bragged about liking museums and dance and opera, but she never actually has any specifics, besides, idk, Starlight Express? Saying she only likes “some opera” just draws my attention to what she means, as if anyone involved in this book had more to say besides NYC CULTURE WOO.
Stacey claims her appreciation for the arts is part of why she and Claudia get along so well. Whatever. She talks about Claudia’s “wearable art,” but doesn’t describe anything more exciting that a vest, although picturing Claudia making actual CLOTHES out of “- a few beads, some clay, a tube or two of paint” makes me think of one of those Project Runway unconventional materials challenges. I’m pretty sure Nina would question her taste level, though.
Also, Claudia is “very exotic-looking,” gag me.
Stacey starts telling us about her diabetes, and then randomly says she doesn’t want to get into the nitty gritty pancreatic details “right now.” O. . .kay? I think I can live with that.
The class jokes about “funny” possibilities for the next Short Takes, none of which are actually funny. Although “Zoo-keeping,” as a joke, might be ironic foreshadowing? In which case, I don’t know if I should be sad or relieved there wasn’t an eventual book based around a “How to Be a Clown” Short Takes class.
Anyway, the next class is Project Work, and according to the teacher “every student at SMS will go out into the community after school three days a week and actually work in a business of his or her choice. . . You won’t be getting paid. The idea is for you to pick a place that interests or excites you, and find out what it’s really like to work there. It’s called hands-on experience.”
Um. Should I even list the ways this is stupid, pointless, questionably legal, arguably unethical, and logistical and liability nightmare? Maybe just one bit at a time, so my blood pressure doesn’t spike too much. So, um, it’s pretty ridiculous to all of a sudden with no warning require all students to participate in 2+ hours after school 3 days a week. I’d also say it’s pretty unethical to use MIDDLE SCHOOL STUDENTS for free labor, but middle school students are actually pretty useless, compared to unpaid interns.
Stacey goes to her locker and finds a note from Claudia: “Projekt Werk sounds grate! Meet us by the fense! C U soon!,” and the obligatory “spelling stifles Claudia’s creativity” shtick, which I really hate. You know what stifles creativity? People not being able to tell WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE SAYING.
Anyway, the “fense” is apparently a regular hang-out for the BSC, hence us never having heard of it before. Everyone is there-Kristy, for some reason is carrying a baseball bat, and Mary Anne is holding Logan’s hand but facing away from him talking to Claudia, which strikes me as funny. They are all talking about fantasy jobs for Project Work, like playing for the Mets (Kristy and Logan), scooping up horseshit at a riding stable (aim high, junior officers!), running a country inn (Mary Anne, forced to be random due to her hobbies being crying and owning a cat), and being a guide at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Stacey killjoys they are supposed to be local jobs, and they say they’re just pretending, so she says she wants to be president of the Gap. How comparatively time-appropriate and vaguely adolescently plausible, I guess. Although Claudia asks for a discount, like since when does Claudia wear anything as bland as the Gap?
Chapter 2
Stacey and Claudia snuggle on Claudia’s bed, fantasizing. About careers. Sure. Stacey thinks maybe she’d rather work for Chanel than the Gap, or maybe she can run Claudia’s fashion design business. Don’t bore Nina! Use the accessory wall VERY, very thoughtfully! Don’t defend the shoe to me!
Before Stacey can dream more about gorgeous models, K. Ron bursts in and announces Project Runway is going to eff up the organization of the club but good, and starts making a list.
Blah blah BSC history, blah blah “In a word, Mary Anne is loveable.” I might have gone with soggy. Dawn, off in Cali, is a “true individual.” Ahem. Shannon proves to be adapting to K. Ron’s operant training, since she is relieved to have made it from Drama Club at 5:28, and bossed around her friend’s mom who was giving her a ride. Blah blah Jessi and Mal, although Stacey at least refrains from marveling at how a black girl and a white girl could be BFFs, because they are like so opposite! There is no mention of Mal’s mono, although this book has to take place between Dawn’s Big Move and Stacey and the Cheerleaders, since Dawn is temporarily gone and Robert doesn’t exist yet.
Kristy explains Project Work to Shannon, and declares they will have to cut down to one meeting, leaving Shannon to pick up all the slack that nearly drove them insane, meaning she’ll have to get a ride to Bradford Court twice a week to sit alone in Claudia’s room and answer the phone. Kristy arbitrarily decrees they should all work at Washington Mall so they can coordinate their schedules, although actually if she was worried about the club it would make more sense to stagger them. But whatever, the mall is like totes huge! Yea, the mall!
Chapter 3
Stacey’s teacher is “pleasantly plump,” although he probably has a cheerful smile because he has to do no teaching or grading for this unit. The students just have to keep a journal. The teachers have arbitrarily divided the list of all the available jobs, and he explains kids working at the mall will be bussed there Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, for a two hour shift with a fifteen minute break. I’m kind of alarmed by how quickly my brain yelled JESSI HAS DANCE CLASS ON TUESDAYS, HELLO?!? This conflict is never mentioned. Did Jessi just skip six weeks of her expensive, competitive dance class because she was more scared of violating K. Ron’s edict?
Also, note the complete lack of permission slips or parental notification for students being taken off school grounds, including being bussed over half an hour away.
Austin Bentley asks what happens if they get fired, will they fail the class? Mr. Withum says the class is unfailable (don’t tell them that, though!) and if they got fired, which would be very unlikely (don’t tell them that either!), they would have to write about the experience in their journals and find a new job. “It would all be part of learning what it’s like to work in the real world.” (I laugh bitterly.) (Parantheses in honor of Ellen’s ghosting.)
Stacey scans the list of job offerings, and is saddened that super-cool Zingy’s isn’t looking for tween sales girls. Although Stacey just said there were several clothing stores she was fantasizing about working at, she ends up picking Toy Town. I worked in an independent children’s book and toy shop for a few years, so I’m not knocking it, but I totally don’t believe Sophisticated Stacey thinks “educational” toys are cooler than a fresh, distant clothing store. Or even Antoinette’s Shoe Tree. (Yes, I read about Washington Mall in the Complete Guide to snark this, meaning I probably did as much prep as any three ghosties. In fact, probably more, since in the Complete Guide I learned Donut Delite is also in Washington Mall, even though this book puts it right outside Stoneybrook, where future British PM Gordon Brown wants to work. Also, Stacey says it’s a “great place to pig-out,” even though she has to limit herself to bagels, because Ann thinks white refined sugar has no connection whatsoever to carbohydrates at large. Also, wouldn’t a “real” New Yorker eschew bagels from a place called Donut Delite? ) Anyway, Stace makes a big deal out of how the educational toys there are totally unique and not boring, and I roll my eyes.
“I looked around nervously to see if anybody else wanted to work there, but my hand was the only one raised. Mr. Withum took down my name, and that was it. I had a job!”
Yes, this is EXACTLY how getting a job works in the real world! (laugh laugh cry cry cry.) Brilliant hands-on experience, there.
The BSC gather to compare notes on their jobs. Claudia is working at the Artist’s Exchange, an art supply store. Kristy, God help us, is going to be working mall security, because she is EXACTLY the kind of person who would go into a field that would give her a phony sense of authority with a plastic badge.
Logan, for no real reason except a minor plot point, is working at the food court’s Casa Grande, because I guess the huge mall doesn’t have a sporting goods store. I REALLY object to middle school children doing prep in a commercial kitchen. Mallory is working at the bookstore, which makes sense, and is probably safer for all involved than letting her run loose at the ear-piercing boutique or, God forbid, a place with socks!!!! Mary Anne is working at a pet supply store because she wanted to be some place where people buy things for their pets, but not have to see animals in cages. This is a weird mall. Jessi is working at the movie theater as an usher. “It wasn’t my first choice, but I think it’ll be fun.” Did she not get her first choice because she’s black? No, I’m seriously asking. Is that how SMS is attempting to mirror the real world? Especially since per the Complete Guide and Mary Anne’s book, there’s a huge dance supply shop in the mall. Also a place where you can rent baby tuxedos. I’d work there!
So, if Dawn were here, where would she work? There’s probably a health food store, or maybe some kind of Judgmental Brat shop-with yoga mats! I just can’t believe no one’s working in the Laura Ashley store.
They go to the mall for orientation, and Kristy kicks Alan out of his seat so she can save the full two back rows for the BSC. This is supposed to be laudable for some reason. Alan is working at an ice cream shop and threatens to give her ants instead of sprinkles, and for once Kristy responds appropriately by laughing at him, not tackling him in a brawl.
The BSC all wander off to their “jobs,” and Stacey meets her boss, April Frenning, and April’s toddler son, Sandy, and her orientation consists of the two of them making a rubber spider jump all over the store.
(Oh, also, April explains “pricing,” and I have no idea if that means, like, physically applying price stickers, or the actual determining of prices.) Sandy is cranky because his mom keeps bringing him to the store due to childcare snafus. Stacey is happy that her boss is nice, and probably also that she’s not a fatty or anything. Stacey will even allow her red hair to go unjudged.
Chapter 4
The actual first day of work has arrived. Stacey lists off a bunch of the AMAZING and UNIQUE toys the store offers, like puzzles and Slinkys. Then she talks about how AMAZING it is that the toy shop has toys out on display tables. I’m starting to think Stacey doesn’t get out much. April suggests she take down a display of a farm playset and put up a dollhouse, and Stacey offers to let Sandy help, being marginally less of a creeper than in Stacey’s Big Break. Also, April warns Stacey to beware of SHOPLIFTERS, because there has been more SHOPLIFTING recently. Stacey is appalled.
Claudia comes by on her break and says the owners of the Artist’s Exchange are sooooo nice and she can’t believe anyone would SHOPLIFT from them. Stacey and Ellen make a big deal out of making the dollhouse family “liberated,” by putting dad in the kitchen and mom in the garage, and then April sends Stacey on her break. She visits Mal at the bookstore, who is geeking out over an updated version of Little Red Riding Hood, when Mal’s boss walks past. According to Mal, she walks around the store all day watching for SHOPLIFTERS. Yes, and the books are magically ordered and shelved and inventoried by themselves while she does it. Also, kids sneak into the movie theater, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the SHOPLIFTING plot. Stacey and Mal are scandalized by this. Stacey runs up to visit MA at the pet store, where MA is playing with a squeaky hamburger. As you do. Stacey asks about SHOPLIFTING and Mary Anne says her boss also warned her, although she can’t imagine a cat- or dog-lover stealing. Who knew all we needed for a crime free utopia was to give everyone kittehs? Also, apparently people SHOPLIFT at the food court, by taking off incomplete orders without paying.
On her way back to Toy Town, Stacey passes Kristy and calls her “Officer Thomas.” Ugh. Kristy says “we are on the case” of the SHOPLIFTERS and talks into her walkie-talkie. I can’t believe they even gave her one.
Back at the store, April is working the cash register and asks Stacey to “encourage” a little boy to use the display toys. Stacey goes over to him, and he’s just ripping open boxes of Legos and pouring them on the floor. Uh, I’m pretty sure a seven-year-old knows you can’t just randomly open up boxes in a shop. Stacey looks for his mom, dad, or baby-sitter, but he says his mom left him there while she shopped, and Stacey is appalled. I am, too, but I’m also appalled at the idea of people leaving newborns with thirteen-year-olds on the regular, or leaving an eleven-year-old “in charge” for the weekend. When I worked in the bookstore, this happened a LOT especially since we were right next door to a Starbucks. I actually didn’t mind elementary school kids, but I swear, sometimes people left actual toddlers. We were supposed to be really friendly and encouraging-and I didn’t mind watching a baby or toddler if the parent wanted to grab a latte and let me know-but it made me really nervous when the parents didn’t even come in with them, especially since we were on a street corner. I do know when I was probably about seven or eight it was really exciting to be allowed to go to the pink Barbie aisle at Target while my mom was picking out boring stuff, but I was a pretty responsible and obedient kid who could be trusted not to leave the area I was supposed to be in, and not to start ripping open packages.
Anyway, for all of Stacey’s fretting, this is an incredibly biddable kid who picks up the Legos without saying mouthing off or anything.
Then his mom saunters in and says “I always leave him here while I shop. He’s happier, and I can be a lot more productive.” That is pretty goddamn rude. Maybe people would be less likely to do that if April charged them for stuff their kids opened, instead of throwing up her hands and saying “what can I do?” and there’s no other place to leave a kid while you shop! PLOT POINT. Stacey says the idea seems crazy to her, unlike the idea of letting a two-year-old play softball with kids three times her size, or thinking you can make working musical instruments out of milk jugs and toilet paper tubes, or [insert pretty much any BSC plot here].
On the bus, she is amazed to find that Mal and Logan have also heard of kids being left at the bookstore and food court. Seven-year-old me would have been totally fine sitting in the bookstore all day, to be honest-and books you can still sell after someone has read them, usually. Stacey is still shocked at the seamy underbelly of the mall she has witnessed, and muses “Working in the real world was an eye-opener.” I. . .have to lie down.
Chapter 5
Very boring job journal entry from Mallory about doing Story Hour at the bookstore, because she likes kids and likes books, so it’s totally perfect! Again, because Mal and Stacey don’t get out much, they are overly awed by a bookstore with comfy places to sit down and hang out.
However, I will say the store is weird for advertising the Story Hour with Mal’s name prominently displayed in big letters. Who cares about the name of the Story Hour person at the mall? In my little bookstore and its sister shops, we did sometimes ID storytellers when there was something “special”-like a couple of people did story hour with baby sign language, one woman did Spanish-language, I did French a few times at my boss’s insistence, but the selling point was the language stuff, not “OMG it’s alula doing the story hour? Let us drop everything and go!”
Ms. Munro, her boss, is savvy enough to assign Mal books to read, so she doesn’t give an uncomfortably erotic reading from Misty or anything. She suggests an edition of Stone Soup (allegedly a favorite of Nicky’s), The Cat in the Hat, which Claire and Margo “adore” (how fascinating and unique) and an oversized edition of Tikki-Tikki-Tembo. This is a “classic” I have no memory of, and my gut feeling is that it hasn’t aged well, when there is actually good and authentic multicultural children’s lit available instead of made-up fakelore with muddled “Asian” illustrations. But I’m kind of a curmudgeon, since there are other children’s books. I do still remember fondly that I also know how some skeevy stereotypical elements.
Ms. Munro suggests Mal read through the books first, but instead she sits there and fusses over how many kids start showing up. (Although it’s way more awkward when only one kid comes and you don’t know whether to wait. . .) She says there were about fifteen kids ages three to five, and that “most” of them were there without parents, and that is genuine bullshit. But it also kind of bugs me of an example of how to Ann, children from age 2 to age 10 are basically the same and can be treated the same, and then at eleven they are magically adults. (Except Tiffany Kilbourne, that gardening loose cannon.) Dropping a seven-year-old off at story hour while you shopped might be okay; leaving a three-year-old is insane.
Mal frets about how the crowd is wild and if she doesn’t start early she might have a riot on her hands. What has befuddled this serious, experienced baby-sitter and eldest of eight? “A boy in the front row was poking his friend, who squealed and giggled and poked him back. Two girls were running from spot to spot, trying to find the best seats. And a baby who sat on its mother’s lap was beginning to get fussy.” MADNESS. CALL IN THE NATIONAL GUARD! CHILDREN ARE POKING AND GIGGLING.
Mal has a little bit of nerves as she gets started, which I can sympathize-I do have awful stage fright, even with this kind of thing sometime. Kids yell out requests for books, and a small boy in a Barney t-shirt requests a Barney book, which I mention only because it’s a relatively timely reference, I guess. Mal starts reading Stone Soup, and Stacey interrupts to tell us the story, although she does it in a way that makes no sense. (Most versions have some kind of trickster character who gets things rolling-this just randomly has the villagers put stones in a soup pot and gradually notice they’ve made soup.) Mal is not coordinated enough to hold a book so the kids can see the picture while she reads, which is kind of a story hour liability, so a kid in the audience yells this is boring and he can’t even see the stupid pictures.
Mal internally freaks out, but switches to the big copy of Rikki-Tikki-Tembo. For plot contrivance reasons she notices two slightly older kids have joined the group, and “they were a little dirty and scruffy, but they were behaving well.” OMG, shut up Mal. Being “scruffy” (and God only knows what that means to a Stoneybrookite) is not an indicator of moral character. Do you think you’re in a Dickens book or something?
Ellen Miles manages to make reading a book aloud sound like an athletic endurance event Mal obviously fails at, but the kids like the book, which sounds even more annoying in Stacey’s description. But the hour winds down and kids are collected, including the scruffy blonde urchins, by a girl who might be their older sister, according to Mal.
The BSC compare notes about their day on the bus, and instead of getting to do fun things like story hour or make enchiladas or sell 20 pounds of dog biscuits or make window displays (I loved coming up with displays-probably my favorite part), Jessi had to scrape gum off the floor. This is kind of tacky, book. But alas, someone SHOPLIFTED some sing-along cassettes from Toy Town! Kristy says obnoxiously that she’ll tell her boss to review the tapes extra carefully, but Stacey is sure the SHOPLIFTERS are too clever for that, because your hard-core, serious-minded shoplifters definitely go for sing-along cassettes. (I mean, the tape will probably be useless for actually identifying someone, unless they are a mall worker in uniform or dress like Claudia-it’s really only useful as proof if you’ve caught someone-but both Kristy and Stacey are dumb. The best part is that Stacey describes Kristy speaking “importantly.)
Then Mal brings up that she thought she saw something weird at story hour, because Ellen is a shitty writer who doesn’t know it’s tacky to show a scene from a character’s POV and then add something they allegedly saw but didn’t mention to the reader at the time in a different scene. Anyway, she thinks she saw the “scruffy” boy steal a pack of cookies that belonged to another little girl, but she didn’t say anything or seem upset. That is total bullshit to force the plot contrivance by the way. Why, when Mal was barely keeping order and struggling to hold the book without falling on her face, was she even noticing a pack of cookies and knowing definitely what kid it belonged to? Kristy jokes about there being a crime wave at story hour, and everyone dies of hilarity. Except not.
Chapter 6
Back on the bus, Kristy claims her boss actually called her at home on Saturday to discuss the security tapes. The hell she did. She claims there were teenagers doing “suspicious things” on the tapes. Like walking around crouched over like a hunchback? Or following people while hiding behing newspapers? Or dressing like Ms. Frizzle? Anyway, because Ann has no idea how SHOPLIFTING works, mall security has decided it is a single gang of teenage kids shoplifting in an organized way. MA asks if they have guns, because upper-middle-class shopping malls are well-known hubs of urban gang shooting violence, but Kristy says it’s not a “gang gang.” Thanks for clearing that up.
Claudia and Logan awkwardly exposit that s SHOPLIFTING causes prices to be higher for everyone else, and Claudia’s boss loses thousands to shoplifting in a year. Wow, that “gang” of teenagers must really go through acrylic paints fast. Or, you know, shoplifting is a perpetual and ongoing issue that doesn’t usually have a single “bad guy” syndicate, and that isn’t only done by “suspicious looking” teenagers, but ordinary people and even by rich movie stars.
They walk to their separate stores and Claudia and Stacey do some window-shopping, although Stacey claims some of the “magic” is gone now that she knows that, idk, items in a store are arranged to get you to spend money and not magically scattered around by elves. The lacy baby doll dress Claudia eyes doesn’t sound too awful and is probably fairly era-appropriate, but the best part is the e-book calls her “Gaud.”
Stacey gets to Toy Town and Sandy is being adorable, calling her Tay-See and showing her his stuffed dog., but April approaches her for a Serious Conversation about SHOPLIFTING and Stace thinks she’s about to get the axe. She offers to pay for the stolen cassettes and April very kindly reassures her that she doesn’t blame her, but she wants to go over procedures. “Keep your eyes peeled for people who linger in the store without buying anything. People who are carrying big bags or wearing oversized coats or jackets are suspicious, too. Watch them if they make a move toward merchandise. But if you see somebody take something, don’t go after the person yourself, whatever you do. That could be dangerous. Next, don’t panic. And don’t make it obvious that you saw them. Instead, you should press our security button, which will alert security to a problem at Toy Town, and they’ll get here as fast as they can.” I guess they couldn’t figure out a coded way to work in some racial profiling. But whatever.
April leaves Stacey to run the cash register, and Stacey overreacts and stares creepily at a couple wearing coats, imagining one of them shoplifting and standing with her finger on the button and then imagining they would get out of jail and track her down and kill her or something. Did this suddenly turn into a Mary Anne book?
They leave after a few minutes, possibly because of the crazy-eyes the girl at the counter was giving them. April asks Stacey to mind Sandy at the counter-you know, it’s nice that Stacey likes kids and doesn’t mind, but it’s kind of shifty that April is using Project Work and Stacey’s alleged educational time to get free baby-sitting. Being distracted with Sandy chills Stacey out a little, maybe too much since someone steals the Gamester, some kind of knock-off Gameboy, right off the counter at the register.
Kristy curses those fiendish shoplifters, and then Stacey gets the idea there should be a day care center at the mall, because if she wasn’t minding Sandy she would totally have caught the crooks. Everyone is excited, except me.
Chapter 7
Actually, the end of the last chapter was a LIE because now Stacey tells us Kristy wasn’t excited. This has changed by the next paragraph, so that really did only happen so we know Kristy is a self-obsessed asshole who resents it when anyone else has an idea. By the next day she’s figured out how to be obnoxiously self-important about the idea, so she’s fine. She says there are a lot of “aspects” they need to figure out, and I cringe so hard at the idea of middle school kids planning a legitimate commercial day care center, with all the requirements and logistics that entails.
Kristy is sure the mall will go for it and it will increase business, but they have to figure out stuff like where will it be and who will run it and who will pay the rents, and a bunch of kids unilaterally decide store-owners will chip in on the rent. Okay then. By BSC priorities, the next step is getting crayons and mats for naps. Uh-huh. Jessi non-sequitirs that her boss thinks someone is sleeping the movie theater, but it’s not time for that Plot Contrivance yet, so they ignore her, agree to pitch the idea to their bosses, and go to work.
April is frazzled, even though Sandy actually has a baby-sitter that day, and too busy to talk, so Stacey putters around until there is a huge commotion outside. Two police officers are chasing someone or someones, and everyone on that floor at the mall randomly decides to start running too, while other people just stare. Because yeah, if I see a police pursuit, I immediately join in. Or not, because I’m not a rubber-necking jerk who wants to get in the way so I have a cool story to tell. A bunch of people knock down an elderly man, and Stacey whines about wanting to help him, but just stands there guarding the rubber stamp display.
Eventually, the police corner four teenagers, and Stacey is like, “Wow, they caught the whole gang!” Yes, four teenagers are single-handedly responsible for thousands of dollars in shoplifting over the whole mall. In more bad story telling, Stacey tells us she totally saw one of the guys in the toy store when she came in, and omg the Gamester is gone. She shoves her way over to the cops while the cops are making the kids empty their pockets and zomg! An expensive lipstick! A scarf! A Gamester! I mean, don’t get me wrong, shoplifting is bad, but I’m seriously supposed to believe these teens represent a major criminal enterprise? Whatever.
Mal is all excited they caught the shoplifters, and Kristy brags it was a “sting” and she was “working back-up.” BULLSHIT. That would be criminally irresponsible and negligent, if it were true. Kristy assures them all SHOPLIFTING is over forever now.
The police stop by Toy Town to give April some paperwork, and she confides with all the shoplifting she was worried about having Sandy there, giving Stacey a segue into the day care proposal. April thinks it’s brilliant, even if it’s a “big project” that a bunch of teenage girls will need “lots of help with.” Yeah, and the mall will need lots of lawyers to deal with, at this rate. She says they’ll need permission from the mall manager, who happens to be new on the job-the old manager never liked any new ideas, but the new guy might. Stacey leaves, happy that shoplifting is over forever and they soon will be running a day care, probably with a “lisenze” hand painted by Claudia. Things are looking up. . .or ARE THEY?
Cover!
Well, I will begin by saying Claud’s flared pants and leather jacket are actually pretty cute, even if her pose is weird. Chic, sophisticated Stacey is wearing the junior miss version of an outfit my mom might wear to go to a church budget committee meeting, but her hair actually looks like it might have been permed at one point.
As for the rest of it, Hodges went hog-wild with kooky Escher perspective-I have an art history minor, and it still took me way too long to figure out he’s showing the underside of one escalator and another one angled away back and to the side. Because, to crib from mizzmarvel, what I’m looking for in my BSC covers is the bottom of a big damn escalator. But the best part is off to the sides, where we get a glimpse of the super-dibble, wild Zingy’s-and the front and center window display seems to be an empire waist, ankle-length pink maternity jumper over a high-necked long-sleeved blouse.
Even the Amish wouldn’t call that punk, and you could probably wear it without comment on an FLDS compound. Oh, Hodges.
And for a bonus, here's the British cover:
Dibbly sophisticated!
Chapter 1
Stacey gets back a report with an A+ on it and the teacher congratulates her, although she of course brags it’s not the first time she’s gotten an A or anything, Gawd. We’re in yet another Short Takes class, but this one, Math for Real Life, actually sounds relatively plausible and potentially educational-they learned about budgeting and balancing a checkbook and stuff, and then made imaginary investments in the stock market, which is the paper Stacey aced. She stops to explain Short Takes, and loses the marginal credit I gave her for being the sanest person in Modern Living by calling it “really cool.”
Anyway, Stace made mad money on the fake stock market, and now thinks she might want to be a trader on the stock exchange. For all the crap I give these books, I do feel I should take a moment for some small appreciation that Stacey is pretty consistently allowed to be interested in business, finance and math while being blonde and fashionable. For these books, that’s like mad radical feminism, not to mention an overabundance of character traits.
She then fritters away my good will by talking about how she might like to run a chain of stores because she’s a super shopper and she’s from New York, and she’s absurdly proud of being able to keep track fo what she spends when she shops and compare prices. She also calls herself a “culture vulture,” and I think the first rule of Culture Vulture Club is not calling yourself that. (And I grew up in a house with a poster of the First Folio tracking how many Shakespeare performances we’d seen.) This isn’t the first time Stacey has bragged about liking museums and dance and opera, but she never actually has any specifics, besides, idk, Starlight Express? Saying she only likes “some opera” just draws my attention to what she means, as if anyone involved in this book had more to say besides NYC CULTURE WOO.
Stacey claims her appreciation for the arts is part of why she and Claudia get along so well. Whatever. She talks about Claudia’s “wearable art,” but doesn’t describe anything more exciting that a vest, although picturing Claudia making actual CLOTHES out of “- a few beads, some clay, a tube or two of paint” makes me think of one of those Project Runway unconventional materials challenges. I’m pretty sure Nina would question her taste level, though.
Also, Claudia is “very exotic-looking,” gag me.
Stacey starts telling us about her diabetes, and then randomly says she doesn’t want to get into the nitty gritty pancreatic details “right now.” O. . .kay? I think I can live with that.
The class jokes about “funny” possibilities for the next Short Takes, none of which are actually funny. Although “Zoo-keeping,” as a joke, might be ironic foreshadowing? In which case, I don’t know if I should be sad or relieved there wasn’t an eventual book based around a “How to Be a Clown” Short Takes class.
Anyway, the next class is Project Work, and according to the teacher “every student at SMS will go out into the community after school three days a week and actually work in a business of his or her choice. . . You won’t be getting paid. The idea is for you to pick a place that interests or excites you, and find out what it’s really like to work there. It’s called hands-on experience.”
Um. Should I even list the ways this is stupid, pointless, questionably legal, arguably unethical, and logistical and liability nightmare? Maybe just one bit at a time, so my blood pressure doesn’t spike too much. So, um, it’s pretty ridiculous to all of a sudden with no warning require all students to participate in 2+ hours after school 3 days a week. I’d also say it’s pretty unethical to use MIDDLE SCHOOL STUDENTS for free labor, but middle school students are actually pretty useless, compared to unpaid interns.
Stacey goes to her locker and finds a note from Claudia: “Projekt Werk sounds grate! Meet us by the fense! C U soon!,” and the obligatory “spelling stifles Claudia’s creativity” shtick, which I really hate. You know what stifles creativity? People not being able to tell WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE SAYING.
Anyway, the “fense” is apparently a regular hang-out for the BSC, hence us never having heard of it before. Everyone is there-Kristy, for some reason is carrying a baseball bat, and Mary Anne is holding Logan’s hand but facing away from him talking to Claudia, which strikes me as funny. They are all talking about fantasy jobs for Project Work, like playing for the Mets (Kristy and Logan), scooping up horseshit at a riding stable (aim high, junior officers!), running a country inn (Mary Anne, forced to be random due to her hobbies being crying and owning a cat), and being a guide at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Stacey killjoys they are supposed to be local jobs, and they say they’re just pretending, so she says she wants to be president of the Gap. How comparatively time-appropriate and vaguely adolescently plausible, I guess. Although Claudia asks for a discount, like since when does Claudia wear anything as bland as the Gap?
Chapter 2
Stacey and Claudia snuggle on Claudia’s bed, fantasizing. About careers. Sure. Stacey thinks maybe she’d rather work for Chanel than the Gap, or maybe she can run Claudia’s fashion design business. Don’t bore Nina! Use the accessory wall VERY, very thoughtfully! Don’t defend the shoe to me!
Before Stacey can dream more about gorgeous models, K. Ron bursts in and announces Project Runway is going to eff up the organization of the club but good, and starts making a list.
Blah blah BSC history, blah blah “In a word, Mary Anne is loveable.” I might have gone with soggy. Dawn, off in Cali, is a “true individual.” Ahem. Shannon proves to be adapting to K. Ron’s operant training, since she is relieved to have made it from Drama Club at 5:28, and bossed around her friend’s mom who was giving her a ride. Blah blah Jessi and Mal, although Stacey at least refrains from marveling at how a black girl and a white girl could be BFFs, because they are like so opposite! There is no mention of Mal’s mono, although this book has to take place between Dawn’s Big Move and Stacey and the Cheerleaders, since Dawn is temporarily gone and Robert doesn’t exist yet.
Kristy explains Project Work to Shannon, and declares they will have to cut down to one meeting, leaving Shannon to pick up all the slack that nearly drove them insane, meaning she’ll have to get a ride to Bradford Court twice a week to sit alone in Claudia’s room and answer the phone. Kristy arbitrarily decrees they should all work at Washington Mall so they can coordinate their schedules, although actually if she was worried about the club it would make more sense to stagger them. But whatever, the mall is like totes huge! Yea, the mall!
Chapter 3
Stacey’s teacher is “pleasantly plump,” although he probably has a cheerful smile because he has to do no teaching or grading for this unit. The students just have to keep a journal. The teachers have arbitrarily divided the list of all the available jobs, and he explains kids working at the mall will be bussed there Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, for a two hour shift with a fifteen minute break. I’m kind of alarmed by how quickly my brain yelled JESSI HAS DANCE CLASS ON TUESDAYS, HELLO?!? This conflict is never mentioned. Did Jessi just skip six weeks of her expensive, competitive dance class because she was more scared of violating K. Ron’s edict?
Also, note the complete lack of permission slips or parental notification for students being taken off school grounds, including being bussed over half an hour away.
Austin Bentley asks what happens if they get fired, will they fail the class? Mr. Withum says the class is unfailable (don’t tell them that, though!) and if they got fired, which would be very unlikely (don’t tell them that either!), they would have to write about the experience in their journals and find a new job. “It would all be part of learning what it’s like to work in the real world.” (I laugh bitterly.) (Parantheses in honor of Ellen’s ghosting.)
Stacey scans the list of job offerings, and is saddened that super-cool Zingy’s isn’t looking for tween sales girls. Although Stacey just said there were several clothing stores she was fantasizing about working at, she ends up picking Toy Town. I worked in an independent children’s book and toy shop for a few years, so I’m not knocking it, but I totally don’t believe Sophisticated Stacey thinks “educational” toys are cooler than a fresh, distant clothing store. Or even Antoinette’s Shoe Tree. (Yes, I read about Washington Mall in the Complete Guide to snark this, meaning I probably did as much prep as any three ghosties. In fact, probably more, since in the Complete Guide I learned Donut Delite is also in Washington Mall, even though this book puts it right outside Stoneybrook, where future British PM Gordon Brown wants to work. Also, Stacey says it’s a “great place to pig-out,” even though she has to limit herself to bagels, because Ann thinks white refined sugar has no connection whatsoever to carbohydrates at large. Also, wouldn’t a “real” New Yorker eschew bagels from a place called Donut Delite? ) Anyway, Stace makes a big deal out of how the educational toys there are totally unique and not boring, and I roll my eyes.
“I looked around nervously to see if anybody else wanted to work there, but my hand was the only one raised. Mr. Withum took down my name, and that was it. I had a job!”
Yes, this is EXACTLY how getting a job works in the real world! (laugh laugh cry cry cry.) Brilliant hands-on experience, there.
The BSC gather to compare notes on their jobs. Claudia is working at the Artist’s Exchange, an art supply store. Kristy, God help us, is going to be working mall security, because she is EXACTLY the kind of person who would go into a field that would give her a phony sense of authority with a plastic badge.
Logan, for no real reason except a minor plot point, is working at the food court’s Casa Grande, because I guess the huge mall doesn’t have a sporting goods store. I REALLY object to middle school children doing prep in a commercial kitchen. Mallory is working at the bookstore, which makes sense, and is probably safer for all involved than letting her run loose at the ear-piercing boutique or, God forbid, a place with socks!!!! Mary Anne is working at a pet supply store because she wanted to be some place where people buy things for their pets, but not have to see animals in cages. This is a weird mall. Jessi is working at the movie theater as an usher. “It wasn’t my first choice, but I think it’ll be fun.” Did she not get her first choice because she’s black? No, I’m seriously asking. Is that how SMS is attempting to mirror the real world? Especially since per the Complete Guide and Mary Anne’s book, there’s a huge dance supply shop in the mall. Also a place where you can rent baby tuxedos. I’d work there!
So, if Dawn were here, where would she work? There’s probably a health food store, or maybe some kind of Judgmental Brat shop-with yoga mats! I just can’t believe no one’s working in the Laura Ashley store.
They go to the mall for orientation, and Kristy kicks Alan out of his seat so she can save the full two back rows for the BSC. This is supposed to be laudable for some reason. Alan is working at an ice cream shop and threatens to give her ants instead of sprinkles, and for once Kristy responds appropriately by laughing at him, not tackling him in a brawl.
The BSC all wander off to their “jobs,” and Stacey meets her boss, April Frenning, and April’s toddler son, Sandy, and her orientation consists of the two of them making a rubber spider jump all over the store.
(Oh, also, April explains “pricing,” and I have no idea if that means, like, physically applying price stickers, or the actual determining of prices.) Sandy is cranky because his mom keeps bringing him to the store due to childcare snafus. Stacey is happy that her boss is nice, and probably also that she’s not a fatty or anything. Stacey will even allow her red hair to go unjudged.
Chapter 4
The actual first day of work has arrived. Stacey lists off a bunch of the AMAZING and UNIQUE toys the store offers, like puzzles and Slinkys. Then she talks about how AMAZING it is that the toy shop has toys out on display tables. I’m starting to think Stacey doesn’t get out much. April suggests she take down a display of a farm playset and put up a dollhouse, and Stacey offers to let Sandy help, being marginally less of a creeper than in Stacey’s Big Break. Also, April warns Stacey to beware of SHOPLIFTERS, because there has been more SHOPLIFTING recently. Stacey is appalled.
Claudia comes by on her break and says the owners of the Artist’s Exchange are sooooo nice and she can’t believe anyone would SHOPLIFT from them. Stacey and Ellen make a big deal out of making the dollhouse family “liberated,” by putting dad in the kitchen and mom in the garage, and then April sends Stacey on her break. She visits Mal at the bookstore, who is geeking out over an updated version of Little Red Riding Hood, when Mal’s boss walks past. According to Mal, she walks around the store all day watching for SHOPLIFTERS. Yes, and the books are magically ordered and shelved and inventoried by themselves while she does it. Also, kids sneak into the movie theater, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the SHOPLIFTING plot. Stacey and Mal are scandalized by this. Stacey runs up to visit MA at the pet store, where MA is playing with a squeaky hamburger. As you do. Stacey asks about SHOPLIFTING and Mary Anne says her boss also warned her, although she can’t imagine a cat- or dog-lover stealing. Who knew all we needed for a crime free utopia was to give everyone kittehs? Also, apparently people SHOPLIFT at the food court, by taking off incomplete orders without paying.
On her way back to Toy Town, Stacey passes Kristy and calls her “Officer Thomas.” Ugh. Kristy says “we are on the case” of the SHOPLIFTERS and talks into her walkie-talkie. I can’t believe they even gave her one.
Back at the store, April is working the cash register and asks Stacey to “encourage” a little boy to use the display toys. Stacey goes over to him, and he’s just ripping open boxes of Legos and pouring them on the floor. Uh, I’m pretty sure a seven-year-old knows you can’t just randomly open up boxes in a shop. Stacey looks for his mom, dad, or baby-sitter, but he says his mom left him there while she shopped, and Stacey is appalled. I am, too, but I’m also appalled at the idea of people leaving newborns with thirteen-year-olds on the regular, or leaving an eleven-year-old “in charge” for the weekend. When I worked in the bookstore, this happened a LOT especially since we were right next door to a Starbucks. I actually didn’t mind elementary school kids, but I swear, sometimes people left actual toddlers. We were supposed to be really friendly and encouraging-and I didn’t mind watching a baby or toddler if the parent wanted to grab a latte and let me know-but it made me really nervous when the parents didn’t even come in with them, especially since we were on a street corner. I do know when I was probably about seven or eight it was really exciting to be allowed to go to the pink Barbie aisle at Target while my mom was picking out boring stuff, but I was a pretty responsible and obedient kid who could be trusted not to leave the area I was supposed to be in, and not to start ripping open packages.
Anyway, for all of Stacey’s fretting, this is an incredibly biddable kid who picks up the Legos without saying mouthing off or anything.
Then his mom saunters in and says “I always leave him here while I shop. He’s happier, and I can be a lot more productive.” That is pretty goddamn rude. Maybe people would be less likely to do that if April charged them for stuff their kids opened, instead of throwing up her hands and saying “what can I do?” and there’s no other place to leave a kid while you shop! PLOT POINT. Stacey says the idea seems crazy to her, unlike the idea of letting a two-year-old play softball with kids three times her size, or thinking you can make working musical instruments out of milk jugs and toilet paper tubes, or [insert pretty much any BSC plot here].
On the bus, she is amazed to find that Mal and Logan have also heard of kids being left at the bookstore and food court. Seven-year-old me would have been totally fine sitting in the bookstore all day, to be honest-and books you can still sell after someone has read them, usually. Stacey is still shocked at the seamy underbelly of the mall she has witnessed, and muses “Working in the real world was an eye-opener.” I. . .have to lie down.
Chapter 5
Very boring job journal entry from Mallory about doing Story Hour at the bookstore, because she likes kids and likes books, so it’s totally perfect! Again, because Mal and Stacey don’t get out much, they are overly awed by a bookstore with comfy places to sit down and hang out.
However, I will say the store is weird for advertising the Story Hour with Mal’s name prominently displayed in big letters. Who cares about the name of the Story Hour person at the mall? In my little bookstore and its sister shops, we did sometimes ID storytellers when there was something “special”-like a couple of people did story hour with baby sign language, one woman did Spanish-language, I did French a few times at my boss’s insistence, but the selling point was the language stuff, not “OMG it’s alula doing the story hour? Let us drop everything and go!”
Ms. Munro, her boss, is savvy enough to assign Mal books to read, so she doesn’t give an uncomfortably erotic reading from Misty or anything. She suggests an edition of Stone Soup (allegedly a favorite of Nicky’s), The Cat in the Hat, which Claire and Margo “adore” (how fascinating and unique) and an oversized edition of Tikki-Tikki-Tembo. This is a “classic” I have no memory of, and my gut feeling is that it hasn’t aged well, when there is actually good and authentic multicultural children’s lit available instead of made-up fakelore with muddled “Asian” illustrations. But I’m kind of a curmudgeon, since there are other children’s books. I do still remember fondly that I also know how some skeevy stereotypical elements.
Ms. Munro suggests Mal read through the books first, but instead she sits there and fusses over how many kids start showing up. (Although it’s way more awkward when only one kid comes and you don’t know whether to wait. . .) She says there were about fifteen kids ages three to five, and that “most” of them were there without parents, and that is genuine bullshit. But it also kind of bugs me of an example of how to Ann, children from age 2 to age 10 are basically the same and can be treated the same, and then at eleven they are magically adults. (Except Tiffany Kilbourne, that gardening loose cannon.) Dropping a seven-year-old off at story hour while you shopped might be okay; leaving a three-year-old is insane.
Mal frets about how the crowd is wild and if she doesn’t start early she might have a riot on her hands. What has befuddled this serious, experienced baby-sitter and eldest of eight? “A boy in the front row was poking his friend, who squealed and giggled and poked him back. Two girls were running from spot to spot, trying to find the best seats. And a baby who sat on its mother’s lap was beginning to get fussy.” MADNESS. CALL IN THE NATIONAL GUARD! CHILDREN ARE POKING AND GIGGLING.
Mal has a little bit of nerves as she gets started, which I can sympathize-I do have awful stage fright, even with this kind of thing sometime. Kids yell out requests for books, and a small boy in a Barney t-shirt requests a Barney book, which I mention only because it’s a relatively timely reference, I guess. Mal starts reading Stone Soup, and Stacey interrupts to tell us the story, although she does it in a way that makes no sense. (Most versions have some kind of trickster character who gets things rolling-this just randomly has the villagers put stones in a soup pot and gradually notice they’ve made soup.) Mal is not coordinated enough to hold a book so the kids can see the picture while she reads, which is kind of a story hour liability, so a kid in the audience yells this is boring and he can’t even see the stupid pictures.
Mal internally freaks out, but switches to the big copy of Rikki-Tikki-Tembo. For plot contrivance reasons she notices two slightly older kids have joined the group, and “they were a little dirty and scruffy, but they were behaving well.” OMG, shut up Mal. Being “scruffy” (and God only knows what that means to a Stoneybrookite) is not an indicator of moral character. Do you think you’re in a Dickens book or something?
Ellen Miles manages to make reading a book aloud sound like an athletic endurance event Mal obviously fails at, but the kids like the book, which sounds even more annoying in Stacey’s description. But the hour winds down and kids are collected, including the scruffy blonde urchins, by a girl who might be their older sister, according to Mal.
The BSC compare notes about their day on the bus, and instead of getting to do fun things like story hour or make enchiladas or sell 20 pounds of dog biscuits or make window displays (I loved coming up with displays-probably my favorite part), Jessi had to scrape gum off the floor. This is kind of tacky, book. But alas, someone SHOPLIFTED some sing-along cassettes from Toy Town! Kristy says obnoxiously that she’ll tell her boss to review the tapes extra carefully, but Stacey is sure the SHOPLIFTERS are too clever for that, because your hard-core, serious-minded shoplifters definitely go for sing-along cassettes. (I mean, the tape will probably be useless for actually identifying someone, unless they are a mall worker in uniform or dress like Claudia-it’s really only useful as proof if you’ve caught someone-but both Kristy and Stacey are dumb. The best part is that Stacey describes Kristy speaking “importantly.)
Then Mal brings up that she thought she saw something weird at story hour, because Ellen is a shitty writer who doesn’t know it’s tacky to show a scene from a character’s POV and then add something they allegedly saw but didn’t mention to the reader at the time in a different scene. Anyway, she thinks she saw the “scruffy” boy steal a pack of cookies that belonged to another little girl, but she didn’t say anything or seem upset. That is total bullshit to force the plot contrivance by the way. Why, when Mal was barely keeping order and struggling to hold the book without falling on her face, was she even noticing a pack of cookies and knowing definitely what kid it belonged to? Kristy jokes about there being a crime wave at story hour, and everyone dies of hilarity. Except not.
Chapter 6
Back on the bus, Kristy claims her boss actually called her at home on Saturday to discuss the security tapes. The hell she did. She claims there were teenagers doing “suspicious things” on the tapes. Like walking around crouched over like a hunchback? Or following people while hiding behing newspapers? Or dressing like Ms. Frizzle? Anyway, because Ann has no idea how SHOPLIFTING works, mall security has decided it is a single gang of teenage kids shoplifting in an organized way. MA asks if they have guns, because upper-middle-class shopping malls are well-known hubs of urban gang shooting violence, but Kristy says it’s not a “gang gang.” Thanks for clearing that up.
Claudia and Logan awkwardly exposit that s SHOPLIFTING causes prices to be higher for everyone else, and Claudia’s boss loses thousands to shoplifting in a year. Wow, that “gang” of teenagers must really go through acrylic paints fast. Or, you know, shoplifting is a perpetual and ongoing issue that doesn’t usually have a single “bad guy” syndicate, and that isn’t only done by “suspicious looking” teenagers, but ordinary people and even by rich movie stars.
They walk to their separate stores and Claudia and Stacey do some window-shopping, although Stacey claims some of the “magic” is gone now that she knows that, idk, items in a store are arranged to get you to spend money and not magically scattered around by elves. The lacy baby doll dress Claudia eyes doesn’t sound too awful and is probably fairly era-appropriate, but the best part is the e-book calls her “Gaud.”
Stacey gets to Toy Town and Sandy is being adorable, calling her Tay-See and showing her his stuffed dog., but April approaches her for a Serious Conversation about SHOPLIFTING and Stace thinks she’s about to get the axe. She offers to pay for the stolen cassettes and April very kindly reassures her that she doesn’t blame her, but she wants to go over procedures. “Keep your eyes peeled for people who linger in the store without buying anything. People who are carrying big bags or wearing oversized coats or jackets are suspicious, too. Watch them if they make a move toward merchandise. But if you see somebody take something, don’t go after the person yourself, whatever you do. That could be dangerous. Next, don’t panic. And don’t make it obvious that you saw them. Instead, you should press our security button, which will alert security to a problem at Toy Town, and they’ll get here as fast as they can.” I guess they couldn’t figure out a coded way to work in some racial profiling. But whatever.
April leaves Stacey to run the cash register, and Stacey overreacts and stares creepily at a couple wearing coats, imagining one of them shoplifting and standing with her finger on the button and then imagining they would get out of jail and track her down and kill her or something. Did this suddenly turn into a Mary Anne book?
They leave after a few minutes, possibly because of the crazy-eyes the girl at the counter was giving them. April asks Stacey to mind Sandy at the counter-you know, it’s nice that Stacey likes kids and doesn’t mind, but it’s kind of shifty that April is using Project Work and Stacey’s alleged educational time to get free baby-sitting. Being distracted with Sandy chills Stacey out a little, maybe too much since someone steals the Gamester, some kind of knock-off Gameboy, right off the counter at the register.
Kristy curses those fiendish shoplifters, and then Stacey gets the idea there should be a day care center at the mall, because if she wasn’t minding Sandy she would totally have caught the crooks. Everyone is excited, except me.
Chapter 7
Actually, the end of the last chapter was a LIE because now Stacey tells us Kristy wasn’t excited. This has changed by the next paragraph, so that really did only happen so we know Kristy is a self-obsessed asshole who resents it when anyone else has an idea. By the next day she’s figured out how to be obnoxiously self-important about the idea, so she’s fine. She says there are a lot of “aspects” they need to figure out, and I cringe so hard at the idea of middle school kids planning a legitimate commercial day care center, with all the requirements and logistics that entails.
Kristy is sure the mall will go for it and it will increase business, but they have to figure out stuff like where will it be and who will run it and who will pay the rents, and a bunch of kids unilaterally decide store-owners will chip in on the rent. Okay then. By BSC priorities, the next step is getting crayons and mats for naps. Uh-huh. Jessi non-sequitirs that her boss thinks someone is sleeping the movie theater, but it’s not time for that Plot Contrivance yet, so they ignore her, agree to pitch the idea to their bosses, and go to work.
April is frazzled, even though Sandy actually has a baby-sitter that day, and too busy to talk, so Stacey putters around until there is a huge commotion outside. Two police officers are chasing someone or someones, and everyone on that floor at the mall randomly decides to start running too, while other people just stare. Because yeah, if I see a police pursuit, I immediately join in. Or not, because I’m not a rubber-necking jerk who wants to get in the way so I have a cool story to tell. A bunch of people knock down an elderly man, and Stacey whines about wanting to help him, but just stands there guarding the rubber stamp display.
Eventually, the police corner four teenagers, and Stacey is like, “Wow, they caught the whole gang!” Yes, four teenagers are single-handedly responsible for thousands of dollars in shoplifting over the whole mall. In more bad story telling, Stacey tells us she totally saw one of the guys in the toy store when she came in, and omg the Gamester is gone. She shoves her way over to the cops while the cops are making the kids empty their pockets and zomg! An expensive lipstick! A scarf! A Gamester! I mean, don’t get me wrong, shoplifting is bad, but I’m seriously supposed to believe these teens represent a major criminal enterprise? Whatever.
Mal is all excited they caught the shoplifters, and Kristy brags it was a “sting” and she was “working back-up.” BULLSHIT. That would be criminally irresponsible and negligent, if it were true. Kristy assures them all SHOPLIFTING is over forever now.
The police stop by Toy Town to give April some paperwork, and she confides with all the shoplifting she was worried about having Sandy there, giving Stacey a segue into the day care proposal. April thinks it’s brilliant, even if it’s a “big project” that a bunch of teenage girls will need “lots of help with.” Yeah, and the mall will need lots of lawyers to deal with, at this rate. She says they’ll need permission from the mall manager, who happens to be new on the job-the old manager never liked any new ideas, but the new guy might. Stacey leaves, happy that shoplifting is over forever and they soon will be running a day care, probably with a “lisenze” hand painted by Claudia. Things are looking up. . .or ARE THEY?