An Evening At the Mall

The girls were chatting up a storm as the Camaro's purr went silent and the lights dimmed. "Hannah, do you remember that Aigner purse in Belks I liked?" 'Yeah, why?" "I want it. Might get it." "Don't you think there are too many purple purses about, Poppy?" "I don't care; I've wanted that purse ever since I saw it." "Mama, you like that purse, don't you?" "Yes, Poppy, it sure is nice. Can you afford it?" "Ronnie can!"

For whatever reason, that evening I thought to look like a cowboy with tall, leather boots, pizza-pie-plate belt buckle, Wrangler jeans and a gorgeous, reddish pigskin suede cowboy hat. One evening at church, Carlos was asked why he never dressed like a western cowboy. Carlos had over two-hundred acres of ranch, complete with cattle, horses and a few acres for gardening. He looked at the young lad and dryly replied, "I don't want to look like a trucker." While the youth was processing that tidbit, the rest of us cracked up, laughing. On hearing, "Ronnie can," the door window almost knocked the hat off my head. Permanent fixtures really can move. That's what grandma said after the floor broke her hip.

February fourteen was a day away and there were kiosks about with rose peddlers. Many young couples were strolling the corridor and the girls proudly sported their one-dollar roses. Poppy, said, "You would look good with a rose, Hannah." There was nothing cunning about that remark. Poppy and Hannah are sisters. With me were those two, their mother and close friend, Leah. All five of us knew who was the target.

At least twice an elbow caught my ribs as couples walked by with roses.

Male pride was blossoming nicely. "Those poor lads walking around here with only one girl and I have four! Lookers too!" Good thing the girls weren't mind readers. Hannah and I had been an item for several months. We all went to the same church. It was fairly common that Poppy and Leah went places with us. They were a lot of fun, for sure. And the whole idea of three lovelies buzzing about, well, you get the picture.

Tours through three stores were history as we sauntered through the growing pre-Valentine's Day crowd. It seemed the rose peddlers were having a great night. The sparking couples walked around beaming. Lust? Jealousy? My four looked longingly at the many passing red blooms. Nothing to me. I didn't need one and what these ladies hadn't learned about me is I usually repel suggestions like what Poppy had uttered. It just isn't my style.

Shortly, we entered a gift/novelty shop, something like Spencer Gifts. Speakers were blasting the voice of Michael Bolton, singing "Rainy Night in Georgia." "Isn't that your favorite singer, Leah?" asked Mila, the girls' mom. "Yeah. Maybe I'll buy that tape tonight." "Do you have the money?" Leah was still in school and pinching pennies. "Ronnie does." "Ouch! That's the second time this evening. "Have I established some kind of pattern?" The only thing that came back were a few chuckles.

The ladies had found something of interest in the back of the shop. Near the cash register were many things hanging from the ceiling. One was a beautiful, fluffy St. Bernard in sitting position. It was 28 or 30 inches tall. And big! "Excuse me, miss." "Yes, sir?" "I have to talk quickly. My girlfriend is in the back of the store. Let me go ahead and pay for the St. Bernard and let me get away from the cash register. When we start to leave, approach Hannah, the redhead, and tell her some man pointed her out and bought this St. Bernard for her." Ah, the store clerk was delighted; her face beamed and eyes twinkled like July Fourth sparklers. The transaction was successful.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you Hannah?" "Ye-e-es.??" Question Marks clearly hung over the four of them. "A gentleman asked me to give you this St. Bernard dog." She extended it toward Hannah. The four of them looked at the clerk with doubt. "Whaaaat?" asked Hannah. "A man bought this stuffed dog and said to give it to you." Like a row of chorus girls on cue, they looked at me with those we've-got-it-eyes. The clerk couldn't keep her straight face and broke out a bodacious smile. The gig was up, short-lived and fun.

Walking the corridor again with Hannah clutching the St. Bernard, couples seemed to notice Hannah with her prize. Poor lads were being elbowed in the arms and ribs for them to behold the girl with the giant stuffed animal. And I was walking with four beaming beauties.

An hour and a large Godfather's Pizza later, the Camaro purred again and the lights of town were gone from the rearview mirror. Chatter was cheerfully drowning out the sound of the engine and tires. Oh, yes. Poppy had a new purple/burgundy, Etienne Aigner purse and Leah had a new Michael Bolton tape. We were all happy.