Nightmare at the Shopping Mall. Er, Part II

Think of it as Mall Week over here at Suburban Turmoil.

My parents live about ten minutes from an Atlanta mall, and what with its carousel and play area and Build-a-Bear and department stores and boutiques, I was over there nearly every day last week for one thing or another, so much that it was getting kind of embarrassing. I mean, I was on a first-name basis with half the mall employees by the time it was all over.

And wouldn't you know, it sort of became a new theme in my writing. The shopping mall is not my addiction, people! It's my muse! (And yes, you are welcome to use that line on your husband. It's a good one, isn't it?)

It inspired this week's newspaper edition of Suburban Turmoil, in which I experience something with which all of you are no doubt all too familiar.

It's the one thing that I HATE about the mall. And I'm betting you do, too.

Feel free to leave a comment over at the Nashville Scene if you like, and I'll visit your blog. Don't forget to leave your URL so that I can find you.