Not A Walk in the Park
I wrote two blogs this week and refused to post either one. Once again, the jalopy I was driving broke down along the way. I believe there was an issue with heart, no gas, no throttle. I'm usually flowing with ideas, but this time, most everything I did was forced. It was a stressful cluster of days. My world has been invaded with both kids underfoot, but I continued forward, pushing on, hoping to place my words "just right."
"Hold the press for an extra slice of onion, no tears, no kidding."
My son and I have set a promise to take a walk each day. His schedule at school has been adjusted so we've been putting one foot in front of the other. For most of this week the weather has cooperated, but on Thursday, pouring rain.
Instead of wearing rain slicks we joined the morning walkers at the local mall. The opportunity was most appreciated too. In the hours before the stores opened, we circled the perimeter. Mannequins stood guard from the many window displays. There's something rather eerie about their stiff silhouettes minus spotlights above. They were perched in shadow seemingly ready to pounce. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw, no, that would be nuts. Um, did th-thing move? Gee, I certainly hope not. "JD, did you see tha..? Nope, forget it, that would be crazy."
A simple walk through the mall and the whole thing transformed into a horror flick. If I were to name what followed, "The Morn of the Plastic Heads" would have nailed it.
Locks throughout clicked us in. Trapped. The overhead lights faded out as the music above began to play a horrific tune full volume... Eli's coming hide your heart girl... except it wasn't Three Dog Night, but something far worse, elevator muzak. The sound in itself was frightening.
We gazed at the others as they scurried from door to door hoping to find a means for escape. Panic. Plastic mannequins with gnarling teeth and stiff body movements shuffled into the flow. Most of the walkers began to scream and I joined them. What else was there to do? Unfortunately, our voices drew attention from those whose lips could not move. Many with hinges turned their heads. That in itself was a strange sight...the latest fashions crinkling beneath such attempts...eyes that were painted gazed at us with dislike. I wanted to scream, "JD, run for your life!" I couldn't for there was no place to run and no where to hide....an no words to make sense of the scene as it played out before us.
Someone began to demand coffee.
What the heck? Coffee?
Yes, that was exactly the word used, not help, not call 911 but coffee! Was it a final request before the mannequins imposed their will?
The team of plastic figurines started a chant..."COFFEE, COFFEE, COFFEE..." over and over again. Their voices were muffled as if someone had stitched their lips closed but that did not stop their clamor. They became so noisy, the overhead music was completely drowned out.
One of our group hurried to Del's Coffee Hut and began to fiddle behind the counter. "Does anyone know how to use a commercial brewer? Come on, anyone?"
There was great hesitation as the mannequins folded in and around the stand. "Please, this is a coffee emergency...someone surely must know how to run one of these contraptions."
A moment later, "I do," became audible. "Just let me see if I can help," an old woman said as she weaved her way forward. Unfortunately, she toppled one of the irate figurines along the way. The clank on the floor was something I would never forget...nor would anyone there. A mixture of pain and plastic with an undeniable scream echoed throughout the mall. This seemed to anger most of the herd. I noticed JD gasp as if he sensed our impending doom.
"Why you look like..." the woman behind the counter declared. The older woman interrupted... "Mrs. Olsen the Folger's representative from the coffee commercials, 1972, right? I get that a lot. Coincidence, I assure you."
Coincidence, then why was the Mrs. Olsen-look-alike carrying a wicker bag with a full can of Folger's coffee inside?
In no time, the pots were fired up and a rich fragrance wafted throughout. The mannequins seemed to calm as they anticipated the first sip of morning brew. "Cream or sugar?" Mrs. Olsen wondered as she began to distribute the steaming beverage.
I for one, felt relief as the flock of irate plastics transformed into human store clerks once again. It must have been the poor lighting overhead that offered the illusion of sinister. "I declare, good to the last drop!" One person said as she tossed the empty cup into the garbage bin nearby, fumbled with keys as she proceeded to unlock the entryway to Sear's.
"Did that just happen?" I asked with dismay.
"Yep, as it does every morning just before the mall opens," a man with neon shoes replied.
As we left for home, I told my son, "tomorrow, rain or shine, we return to the park to walk outdoors. That was just too much drama this early in the day."
"Mom, on the way home can we stop for a cup of coffee?" Son had been acting rather peculiar and when I gazed at his left arm I realized he had caught a rash of plastic.
Ugh, time to appreciate the other side of life caffeine free.
Until next week,
~Trixie Archer
"Hold the press for an extra slice of onion, no tears, no kidding."
My son and I have set a promise to take a walk each day. His schedule at school has been adjusted so we've been putting one foot in front of the other. For most of this week the weather has cooperated, but on Thursday, pouring rain.
Instead of wearing rain slicks we joined the morning walkers at the local mall. The opportunity was most appreciated too. In the hours before the stores opened, we circled the perimeter. Mannequins stood guard from the many window displays. There's something rather eerie about their stiff silhouettes minus spotlights above. They were perched in shadow seemingly ready to pounce. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw, no, that would be nuts. Um, did th-thing move? Gee, I certainly hope not. "JD, did you see tha..? Nope, forget it, that would be crazy."
A simple walk through the mall and the whole thing transformed into a horror flick. If I were to name what followed, "The Morn of the Plastic Heads" would have nailed it.
Locks throughout clicked us in. Trapped. The overhead lights faded out as the music above began to play a horrific tune full volume... Eli's coming hide your heart girl... except it wasn't Three Dog Night, but something far worse, elevator muzak. The sound in itself was frightening.
We gazed at the others as they scurried from door to door hoping to find a means for escape. Panic. Plastic mannequins with gnarling teeth and stiff body movements shuffled into the flow. Most of the walkers began to scream and I joined them. What else was there to do? Unfortunately, our voices drew attention from those whose lips could not move. Many with hinges turned their heads. That in itself was a strange sight...the latest fashions crinkling beneath such attempts...eyes that were painted gazed at us with dislike. I wanted to scream, "JD, run for your life!" I couldn't for there was no place to run and no where to hide....an no words to make sense of the scene as it played out before us.
Someone began to demand coffee.
What the heck? Coffee?
Yes, that was exactly the word used, not help, not call 911 but coffee! Was it a final request before the mannequins imposed their will?
The team of plastic figurines started a chant..."COFFEE, COFFEE, COFFEE..." over and over again. Their voices were muffled as if someone had stitched their lips closed but that did not stop their clamor. They became so noisy, the overhead music was completely drowned out.
One of our group hurried to Del's Coffee Hut and began to fiddle behind the counter. "Does anyone know how to use a commercial brewer? Come on, anyone?"
There was great hesitation as the mannequins folded in and around the stand. "Please, this is a coffee emergency...someone surely must know how to run one of these contraptions."
A moment later, "I do," became audible. "Just let me see if I can help," an old woman said as she weaved her way forward. Unfortunately, she toppled one of the irate figurines along the way. The clank on the floor was something I would never forget...nor would anyone there. A mixture of pain and plastic with an undeniable scream echoed throughout the mall. This seemed to anger most of the herd. I noticed JD gasp as if he sensed our impending doom.
"Why you look like..." the woman behind the counter declared. The older woman interrupted... "Mrs. Olsen the Folger's representative from the coffee commercials, 1972, right? I get that a lot. Coincidence, I assure you."
Coincidence, then why was the Mrs. Olsen-look-alike carrying a wicker bag with a full can of Folger's coffee inside?
In no time, the pots were fired up and a rich fragrance wafted throughout. The mannequins seemed to calm as they anticipated the first sip of morning brew. "Cream or sugar?" Mrs. Olsen wondered as she began to distribute the steaming beverage.
I for one, felt relief as the flock of irate plastics transformed into human store clerks once again. It must have been the poor lighting overhead that offered the illusion of sinister. "I declare, good to the last drop!" One person said as she tossed the empty cup into the garbage bin nearby, fumbled with keys as she proceeded to unlock the entryway to Sear's.
"Did that just happen?" I asked with dismay.
"Yep, as it does every morning just before the mall opens," a man with neon shoes replied.
As we left for home, I told my son, "tomorrow, rain or shine, we return to the park to walk outdoors. That was just too much drama this early in the day."
"Mom, on the way home can we stop for a cup of coffee?" Son had been acting rather peculiar and when I gazed at his left arm I realized he had caught a rash of plastic.
Ugh, time to appreciate the other side of life caffeine free.
Until next week,
~Trixie Archer
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