People were backing away as if they were intimidated by him pouncing towards his prey. Within a split-second, he roared fiercely whilst forcing his size 4 Nike trainers into the stomach of what seemed to be his provider of heroin.
Now turning my head back to the immense shopping centre, I seeped through the conjunction of people.
There were mainly women ahead with heaps of shopping bags in one hand whilst pushing a baby’s buggy with another. At this precise moment I was uncertain.
Was I stuck in the middle of a jungle or a conventional place or goods purchase. Busy businessmen, women running after sales, children running away from women, teenagers vandalising and causing mischief, it was too hectic to handle. Then you would want to consider hiring big bulgy body-guards.
On the left were three vending machines with restaurant labelled prices (as if someone were to pay £1.99 for water… I think not.) Further ahead was an aged Postman Pat ride which had been sprayed on by teenagers and for a second you would come to think what was going through his or hers dim-witted brain whilst spraying the name of their young threatening gang (!)
Another thought springs to your mind, even after all the grubby shoe marks left after a day of jam-packed consumers, the floor is left spotless for the next day. Just as I was thinking, my eyes turned across the hall to a few tanned cleaners working their socks off to earn the yearly wage of what an entrepreneur in an Armani suit would make in a day. As I progressed, details were appearing in even more depth. There was a clear contrast of the many shops, just like the people. There were simple shops which had been based in the mall for a longer period which had the ‘old and frail’ look and there were more complex shops which had been refurbished and had the ‘young and fresh’ look.
Many varieties were available like flavours of bubblegum. You would get casual plain clothing, tighter sport clothing and fancy colourful clothing with unusual patterns or offensive slogans.
As surprised I was not to be, elderly people would go for casual plain clothing whether as on the other hand, teenagers bouncing and dancing around for fancy colourful clothing. Say when these teenagers do mature, then their wardrobe would need a new makeover like a woman’s fashion show.
Next minute there was an announcement of the shopping centre closing down. At first the sight of a congested entrance and the sound of women’s heels as they walked and teenagers shouting across the street seemed like quite a caution. Yet seeing the variety of what was available, was sucking me in and soon I was unable to avoid it like an addiction.
Was I becoming a shopaholic?
