The Caribou there is a large kiosk in the middle of the main open area with tables spread around it. So this is just me sitting, drinking a coffee, looking around, observing, listening, and trying to get it down onto paper:
The mall -- so much background noise. There's Muzak over the main loudspeakers, and a different music out of the Caribou next to me. There's the constant hum of conversation -- but you can't make out any one conversation, just voices mingling in the background. Then there are the sounds of furnaces, the sounds of cleaning equipment -- vacuums, floor polishers. If everything was to shut off at once, I'm sure the space between now and silent would be vast.
Malls always have some sort of vehicle on display -- there's a nice boat parked nearby. I don't know my boats, but looks like it could be a fishing boat.
|Not a fishing boat|
Big metallic sculptures hang from the ceiling, cute girls talking at a table, a family in winter coats trudging toward the exit. Security personnel with yellow vests riding Segways. A woman pushing a stroller in front of her, the baby crowded in with bags of merchandise and a diaper bag. There are people looking over the balconies into the central court.
Big decorative, yet simple lights hang from the above, and tracks of smaller lights assist them. Store names and logos are prominently displayed. Rectangular tiles in beige and white, wastebaskets discreetly looking like giant vases up against columns. Store directory shares an obelisk of ads for clothing and shoes. Portable signs on the tables advertise mall gift cards.
And all the while, the constant thrum of noise is like a hand closing over the head and slowly pressing inward.
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