The Opinionator

Mall Watching

When I go to the mall I spend a lot of time on the benches in the main concourse watching the crowds go by. I usually come away with new respect for mothers of small children.  You can learn much about people and our own demographic by watching shoppers at the mall.  I am reminded of how my grandparents, many years ago would angle park their car along the main street of my small town so  they could observe the coming and going of Friday night shoppers.  I guess I am continuing a family tradition by mall watching.  Archie, Betty and Veronica of long ago are no longer on the scene, nor is the local soda joint.  The last time we saw that was on "Happy Days" on television.  The same sociology is at work today at the mall as was in those old comic books, except that it seems we have more of the Jughead characters than we had in the 40's and 50's.

Intimidating groups of teenagers adorn the landscape.  Sometimes dressed in black T-shirts, low slung jeans and chains with evidence of body piercing. I don't know what happens when these kids buy clothes, but for the boys it appears essential that everything they wear be four or five sizes larger than it need be. They are very noisy when together, their gregarious nature is reinforced when they are in a pack and it is not unusual for them to shout, scream, and totally embarrass passive observers standing by. If they are alone or in couples, they undergo complete personality changes and act like anyone's child or grandchild. Many are the times I have renewed my respect for middle school teachers by studying the challenges of their young clients at the mall.  Some of these kids are continually engaged in cell phone conversations...sometimes with each other as they saunter through the area in the same pack.

There are probably few malls in the nation as predominantly Caucasian as the Cape Cod Mall.  In other places you will see significant percentages of blacks and Asians.  Not so here on the Cape.  Ethnic faces do appear, particularly Hispanic ones,  but the number of minorities are nowhere near as plentiful as what I have observed at malls in Connecticut or New York.

The security guards are an interesting lot.  Bigger than the average person, they walk quietly among the shoppers, wearing atrocious haircuts usually talking into a microphone or on a cell phone.  You get the feeling that they are young men playing at being the police rather than the real McCoy. They are not armed with guns, they carry batons.

Sometimes I pick a bench near the pet store.  The cute puppies in the windows are a magnet for the under four year old set who love to drag their parents there to inspect the inventory.

Most of the males I observe wear sneakers... young men or old men, sneakers are the footwear of choice. Sandals show up in the warmer weather and they and shorts are interesting because you can inventory the large amount of tattoos that live on ankles and lower legs. Old timers like me are continually asking themselves, "What were they thinking?"

Watching parents with small children create a special appreciation for my idea of family responsibilities. It engages all of one's attention and energy to take a three year old to the mall.  With no difficulty at all, the toddlers can break away and run into Olympia sports, pick up a baseball bat, and start whacking things.  And yet, I see  harried mothers pushing two seater strollers with screaming children. If this is their idea of a day out, think about how bad it must be at home.

Almost every young man wears some kind of baseball cap, usually filthy with grease or grime and for the very lucky, tattered around the edges.   Sweatshirts with the names of local high schools or colleges abound. Every once in awhile you see a mature person or even a senior citizen sporting a brand new shiny Patriots or Celtics jacket. 

Then there are the exercise walkers who are usually at least 50 years old and characterized by their constant pace and their serious facial expressions.  These are not window shoppers or people looking for fellowship.  They are pursuing a pet project vigorously. You can see old men sitting around food tables playing cards. If there were a bocci court you get a feeling they would be there.

Sometimes I am joined on my observation bench by others. Often they have sore feet or some kind of walking problem. Frequently the men have given up on following their wives through the stores and are just looking for rest for their weary bodies. We usually strike up conversations.