The Tomb

The Tomb

The Maine Mall is dying. This once grand monument of commerce is starting to show cracks and voids in the once solid concrete foundation that it is standing on. The once lighthearted gazes on the consumers and mall employee faces have now turned into somber, mournful, blank stares. This once social runway of spending is now a quiet, tight-wallet tomb; even the upbeat music playing over the public announcement system cannot help the mood within the mall.

Employees that work within the tomb have turned from upbeat, lively, and productive workers into unproductive, money smelling vultures that stand guard in the entranceway like the statuesque guards at Buckingham Palace. When a customer passes through the threshold of the store, the statuesque employees swoop in from multiple angles like a bird of prey finding the best moment of weakness, so that they can dive in for the kill. By using many, conventional methods of attack, "Do you need any help?", "What can I help you find today?", and the coup de gras of all attack methods, "Have you checked out our clearance section?" This exposes the consumer with a brief moment of weakness. However, these methods are effortlessly deflected with the legendary, "Thank you, but I am only looking."

Amongst the statuesque employees, are vibrant, almost blinding clearance signs, "50% off," "75% off," and "Everything must go!" These signs are a relentless attack on the senses, with the neon yellow, radiant red, and dazzling orange colors that make you frantically hunt for your sunglasses or shelter your eyes with a free hand until you stagger away. Even though these signs are used to generate sales, the sheer fact that these signs are in the store's display widows act as an endless reminder that this place is as quiet as a tomb.

Once you have unveiled your eyes, you have to, cautiously be on guard from the next barrage. This onslaught comes from the fraternity that works within every one of the cell phone kiosks. These alpha-males with the suaveness of Casanova, or so they think, dress like the male fashion models that grace the pages of GQ while using influential, ear-candy words like "Honey," "Baby," and "Sugar" to draw in unsuspecting females. After the frat boys use every weapon within their arsenal: the boyish grin, the head tilt, the wink, and the rarely used, but highly affective, batting of the eyelashes. They attempt to move in for the effortless sale. The frat boy starts discussing roughly about what the phone is able to do for them while casually pointing out that the phone comes in pink, this last bit of knowledge is all that the unsuspecting female needs to know. She signs a new contract and passes her shiny pink credit card to the frat boy so that he can conclude the sale. As he hands the bag with her new pink phone, the frat boy continues to flirt with the woman that he just swindled out of her hard-earned money. She flirts for a minute, then goes on her way.

Overlooked, within the dark, assaulting confines of the tomb are two young, lively mothers pushing strollers talking like old friends that have not seen each other in decades. Their beaming bright smiles cut through the dreariness of the tomb like a lighthouse cutting through the thick, dense fog. The two young mothers are a small beacon of light, giving the tomb a small ray of hope.

(This was a English Comp II paper from 2009)