reverse shock in the only public space left...the mall

Still overwhelmed by the amount of space here. I can't believe that I can walk through department stores and not bump into a single individual or smell their perfume or B.O. because they never pass that close.

Why are they all talking to me? I'm fine, dammit, let me buy what I want without you getting up in my face, trying to sign me onto a credit card when I just told you 1) I don't want a credit card and 2) I don't have a U.S. address. Then she asks ' do you know someone here whose address you can use?' I'm flabbergasted. Credit card nation and trillion dollar debts flash across the marquee of my mind.

And stop TOUCHING me. Why are they all touching me?!?! 90% of this room is empty space and yet they still feel it necessary to come around from the counter (my lovely friend, the counter), put an arm around my shoulder or a hand on my arm, and call me 'honey'. My reaction goes something like this: flinch, then stare, then scramble for a response, then smile without looking too shell-shocked.

They've been bursting my urban space bubble, those insidious Texas town ladies with Ann Taylor sweaters, pearl necklaces and over-highlighted hair.


My head still hurts. Note to self: Do not mix wine and mexican martinis.