Emo boy

An afternoon of shopping at the local mall, that’s fairly non-eventful right? Well maybe for some people, but it always seems to hold some color for me.

Monday as we mall walked, the fire alarm sounded-loudly. People mostly ignored the warning and strolled slowly to their next destination. Not me, I looked around almost wildly, for an exit that would lead me to relief of my newly inflicted ear pain. My heart rate sped up noticeably and I strode forward with purpose. Thankfully, the alarm quieted before we exited the building. My nerves still unsettled, I walked to the car to retrieve bottled water and a breath of frigid outside air.

Then Tuesday I went shopping at the mall with Katrina. We ate, shopped, and inspected the unusual persons in the crowd. We are both champion people watchers. At one point we went and dropped our bags at the car, heading back inside for a visit to the stores we had missed our first go round.

Stopping for a drink at Orange Julius, I heard Katrina’s insistent hiss… "Mom, look!" Walking rapidly, a guy dressed to the nine’s (an emo/80’s punk no less) passed us. I barely had time to give him a once over. Katrina walked as swiftly as her flip flops would allow, in hot pursuit of a camera phone picture. Okay, so it was a bit blurry, due to his gait at the time, but as we drank our juice we looked again and admired his original style. He looks just like a Rockband character, we mused.

As we stood to leave the food court, there he was again striding toward us, our new fashion fascination. With an all knowing glance between us, Katrina raised her phone for the awaited picture. I could see the speed at which he still moved and knew she would never get his image for future adoration. Then, I’m not sure what came over me but almost as if I were having an out of body experience, I started to move in his path. Then I found my lips forming words and was surprised to hear myself say, “Excuse me, would you mind if she took your picture?” Gesturing toward Katrina I added, “You look kind of like her Rockband character.”

All the bad scenarios that could take place at this point now whirled in my head. I found myself holding my breath, waiting for his reply. As I did so, my eyes took in the painful looking pins threaded through his face, and I couldn’t help but wonder what his mom must think of his body piercing decisions. Then I was roused from my thoughts, when he replied in a small effeminate voice, "Sure." Shyly he smiled, and his girlfriend who now accompanied him, took a step to one side. “Too bad he doesn’t have his Mohawk spiked up!” the girl loudly exclaimed. Katrina snapped the picture and as I watched the boy’s awkward behavior, I thought again of his mother. Somehow his clothing and piercings were less offensive, because of his quiet unassuming demeanor.

I ask you now, is anything ever blasé at the mall? I say, it’s full of color. Sometimes you just have to be fast enough to catch it.