Well, the rain has stopped.
Apparently it saw that my resolve was unshakable and gave up. I had water in my tent however, and so I ran
into the mall to grab napkins (camping in a parking lot does have some
benefits). There were no napkins in the
bathrooms thanks to those tree-smooching jerks replacing them with air-powered
hand driers (pro-tip: do not attempt to
remove and transport wall mounted hand-driers. Not all mall cops are loveable oafs like Kevin
James.), so I went to the food court and turned my gentlemanly charm on at the
hot-dog-on-a-stick place. Scored myself
some napkins, but when I returned to my tent I found they weren’t enough.
So then I did something really stupid.
I stole a roll of paper towels.
I was on my way back to the food court to the same joint prepared to
ask for more napkins, but as I approached, I saw the one girl who was working
there walk into the back room. And
there, right on the countertop, was a brand new roll of paper towels, which I
assume she was going to clean something with.
Now, I coulda and shoulda just waited for her to come back and asked her
for some, but my brain panicked and was like, “STEAL THEM NOW DO IT!!” and without any conscious thought I snatched
the whole roll and ran. There must have
been a couple dozen witnesses, and I can only imagine what they must have been thinking. Probably they were wondering why. I wondered the same thing as I rode down the
escalator clutching my pilfered towels to my chest.
[Update: several hours later]
It’s late now and the music and the kids in the tent next
door are too loud to sleep, so I’ll update this again.
Watching how this line has grown has been like watching the
development of a civilization. When I
arrived in what I’m now calling Buffaloville there were a few loosely grouped
tents and camp chairs, and as the population grew, so did the level of
organization. The tents now form neat,
ordered rows, and they’re no longer the basic shelters of yesterday. Where a visitor walking the street of
Buffaloville once would have seen a tranquil group of happy campers talking and
playing cards on simple camp chairs, he is now greeted by elaborate and
imposing fortlike canvas and blanket structures surrounding groups of teens,
too young and recently arrived to remember to storm of 5:22 PM, who cluster in front of TV’s playing Call of Duty
while deep Hip Hop beats blast from the speakers set up around the
perimeters. Even the street itself has
changed. Crisscrossing snarls of
extension cords line the way and lead up to where one of the new yuppies found
an outlet on the side of the mall. This
place has changed, and you may call me old-fashioned, but I say it’s not for
the better.
 |
| This guy's beard was black when he started the blazing challenge |
Ha. But
seriously. There’s a lot going on
here. They’ve been having blazing wing
challenges and doing other fun stuff to keep the natives (us) from getting
restless. I didn’t do the blazing wing
challenge even though I’m starving, because I don’t have any water for
afterwards and it’s not something you go into unprepared. The challenge consists of eating 12 blazing
wings in 6 minutes. In case you are
uninitiated, blazing wings are ungodly.
They’re so hot that for every one you order, BWW donates 10 cents to
your locale fire department, and heaven help you if you make the mistake of
eating one and then scratching an itch or touching your face or going to the
bathroom within 14 hours. Going to sleep
now. Will update in the morning.
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