I hate to admit it, but I am a recovering mallrat
, namely of the King of Prussia
mall. Having spent my adolescence in the wilds of suburbia
, there was no greater joy than to cruise down to the mall
, annoy the poor shmucks who work in the stores (to think I would be one of those poor bastards
one day...), smoke cigarettes
(and other items) in the parking lot, fight with "mallficers
" (to think I'd also end up a security guard
at one point, too... thank god not at a mall...), and loiter in the food court
, sipping on one soda the whole night.
The true art of being a mallrat seems lost on the younger kids. They don't take to the pranks we used to pull, such as improvised guerilla theater, pretending we were televangelists and preaching to people as they hoarded onto the elevators.
Or hanging out with guys like Acid Adam, the ultimate Misfits fan, telling us about how a giant purple dragon came out his ass one day when he was tripping...
Or the time my ex threw an enemy's box of Dunkin' Donuts munchkins off the second level, not knowing there was a hamster inside...
Those were the days...