When I was in high school, I was generally a good kid. Not much of a student, but I didn’t make any trouble either. In fact, the only real trouble any of us (those in my group of close friends) got in was when my cousin brought the PVC potato canon I’d borrowed from my boss to school, and got it confiscated. That’s another post though…
We used to get a kick out of doing things that most people thought were either weird or funny, like throwing a lawn mower engine out the window. “What? Engines don’t fly! Why was it inside? Who threw it out the window and why?? What’s up with these antics?!”
I once called an info-mercial for feather pillows to see if I could buy the glass head that the dropped on the pillows to show that it didn’t break. I think later that week, I called the “Orkin terminator” number to see if I could get an Orkin-man suit for Halloween. We also called people for free sample videos and things like Miracle ear and John Deere… We didn’t need em, and after the “holy non-sequitor!” reactions stopped we found ourselves knee deep in a bunch of crap we didn’t want. I think my buddy got harassed by miracle ear until he finally moved out of his folks’ house.
When we weren’t sitting around in the house brightening the days of the phone operators of various products, we’d drive around. Sometimes we’d end up fun places, other times we wouldn’t. It never really mattered what happened, as long as we were together experiencing a change of scenery.
One such occasion we ended up at the “Atrium” mall in Chestnut Hill MA. This is a very hoity-toity mall. It’s well carpeted. The “benches” that are strategically placed around the walk ways were actually couches. It looked very much like a hotel rather than a mall. To say we stuck out is a ridiculous understatement, and we got a kick out of that. We were the object of many “what the huh?!” reactions simply by walking in with our ripped jeans, wallet chains and t-shirts.
Just when you think we couldn’t find a place where we could be more condescended at for our own entertainment, our first stop in the place was Victoria’s Secret. I made a comment as we walked in, making sure it was loud enough that I thought it’d be funny to add an “ion” to the end of the store’s sign out front with my sharpie. Either they didn’t get it (Victoria’s Secretion?) or they chose to ignore it and their faces were already so full of disapproval that I just didn’t notice a difference.
Simply not being in the store was not uncomfortable for every party involved enough. We asked for job applications. There was an impromptu on-the-spot interview by someone who in my memory had an English accent, but may not have… For some reason, to me, someone who is actively disapproving of something seems even more displeased when they disapprove in an English accent.
“What sort of retail experience do you have?” She asked, so obviously going through the motions because she had to.
“None,” I said.
“I’ve worked as a cashier in a mini-mart for four years,” my buddy said.
“Ok,” she said. “But do you have any experience in sales?”
“I sold things all the time at the mini-mart. They couldn’t leave until they paid,” he said, as if she were the stupidest person on earth.
“Ah, ok.” she said, coming to the conclusion we knew she would anyway. “Well, you boys take these applications home, and fill them out, and you can mail them back in. We’ll call you if we need you, thanks.”
We left there with big stupid grins on our faces cause we had job applications from Victoria’s Secret(ion). I don’t know what became of mine, but he hung his on his parent’s fridge. It quickly disappeared, and no one had any idea what became of it.
So anyway, after leaving there with one mission accomplished, we left and stopped at a different mall in the area that was a little less ridiculous, though still quite nice. We found ourselves at “The Sharper Image”. Our afternoon of passive aggravation had us a little stiff, so my cousin and I made use of the massage recliners. I actually fell asleep in mine for about ten minutes. When I woke, I looked over and my cousin was laying face down on his, going “oooohhhhh yeahhh…” Perhaps the secretion wasn’t Victoria’s?
We had a good laugh at his hijinks, and he flipped back over. Moments later, it stopped. An amber colored LED began to blink on his. We left the area post haste, having not only probably ruined the days of some rather uptight smarmy sales associates, but there’s a fair chance we broke some expensive relaxation chairs. I tell you what though, I felt terrific after the shiatsu massage.