You'll have the power to give people pain.
I went to the mall today during lunch with my mum. Work had decided that everyone should bring ridiculously large amounts of food so people could cultivate their gorging skills. As such I was not needing much in the way of lunch at lunchtime. So we trounced off to the mall in an effort to get my mum something to eat, and then participate in some shopping activities. I typically enjoy avoiding the mall with a rabid passion, but as Christmas is coming soon I feel as if I should buy things so my friends and family can receive things from me. Unfortunately, my construction paper skills are not what they once were, so people look at me funny if they receive a festive construction paper collage. Admittedly, I'd look at me funny too, but only because I find decorative crafts intellectually offensive (unless of course they can be used as weapons, but well, then they're not just decorative crafts).
So anyway, we went in to Bloomingdales because it was right there and I think New York City had come up when we were on our way to the mall (among other things that I plan on living there at some point in my life... I decided against professing that I always wanted to live there, and more decisively stated that I plan on doing as much). We went down to the ridiculously overpriced cafe-thing located in the basement named 56th and Lex or something along those lines. The cafe had a silly rope thing in front of it like they use to herd people or show people that they might not actually get to where they want to go because of said silly rope thing. Some high strung man was standing just behind the afore mentioned silly rope, holding a clip board or something equivalent. We approached and he confirmed our dining intentions, which sent him into a frenzy of worried looks around the tiny-ass cafe I suppose to find where best to seat us. We were then carted off to the back corner with the sizely round table because we were either rock stars, or needed to be hidden. Service was... slowly lacking, but that might have had something to do with the fact that I professed quite loudly that our waitress was not very useful once she left our table (her response to my question of the size of the soup bowl was, "You know... Bowl sized..."). There was an older couple three tables away from us, and my mum pointed out that the woman had these fluff balls over the tops of her ears. We couldn't quite figure out whether it was her hair, she had ear-muffs on, or maybe they were fluffy hearing-aids. I decided that they must be the female equivalent of chops.
As we left the mall (after accomplishing absolutely no shopping) the fire alarm went off. Lenox mall needs Pete to beat them all into shape. Or maybe just beat them.
Tomorrow I go to the dentist. Blaaaaaaagh. Hopefully SDM has sought other employment opportunities, and the intelligence level of the secretarial pool (or whatever they would be called) has skyrocketed.
So anyway, we went in to Bloomingdales because it was right there and I think New York City had come up when we were on our way to the mall (among other things that I plan on living there at some point in my life... I decided against professing that I always wanted to live there, and more decisively stated that I plan on doing as much). We went down to the ridiculously overpriced cafe-thing located in the basement named 56th and Lex or something along those lines. The cafe had a silly rope thing in front of it like they use to herd people or show people that they might not actually get to where they want to go because of said silly rope thing. Some high strung man was standing just behind the afore mentioned silly rope, holding a clip board or something equivalent. We approached and he confirmed our dining intentions, which sent him into a frenzy of worried looks around the tiny-ass cafe I suppose to find where best to seat us. We were then carted off to the back corner with the sizely round table because we were either rock stars, or needed to be hidden. Service was... slowly lacking, but that might have had something to do with the fact that I professed quite loudly that our waitress was not very useful once she left our table (her response to my question of the size of the soup bowl was, "You know... Bowl sized..."). There was an older couple three tables away from us, and my mum pointed out that the woman had these fluff balls over the tops of her ears. We couldn't quite figure out whether it was her hair, she had ear-muffs on, or maybe they were fluffy hearing-aids. I decided that they must be the female equivalent of chops.
As we left the mall (after accomplishing absolutely no shopping) the fire alarm went off. Lenox mall needs Pete to beat them all into shape. Or maybe just beat them.
Tomorrow I go to the dentist. Blaaaaaaagh. Hopefully SDM has sought other employment opportunities, and the intelligence level of the secretarial pool (or whatever they would be called) has skyrocketed.