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Not only did I WINNED but I winned AND I finished my STORY! :D Go me.
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I opened the door at the end of the hallway we had congregated in and, shaking off the notion that I had seen the ghost of my dead best friend, I stepped through the door. The mall was still silent, and as far as I could tell, nothing had changed.
We started on our journey, if you will, our footsteps echoing in the empty building that was usually a place that I loathed with the burning of a thousand suns. The lights seemed brighter than usual, probably because I'd never really had a chance to look at them without having to dodge some Hispanic woman and her 10 children or a group of black girls yelling at each other over "Jay-Quan". I was trying to focus on where we could go to get some sort of help, when all of a sudden the taller Baha man suddenly stopped outside of a Bath and Body Works.
"Ah, I be rememberin' dis store. Their soaps be smellin' of de island breeze!" he exclaimed. He stopped to press his face against the window like he was trying to smell "de island breeze" through the glass.
"Dude, you've probably never even SMELLED the island breeze! You probably don't even know what an island looks like!" Mr. Elvis said, getting more and more fed up with the way these posers kept talking.
"Relax, mahn! I was jus commentin' on de good smells!"
"You NEED to be commenting on how ridiculous you sound." Mr. Elvis muttered, turning to keep walking. I followed suit, when suddenly, HE came to a halt in front of another window.
"Awwwww YEAH! The new Air Max Fly In The Sky Make Yo Mamma Cry Better Than Apple Pie Jordans are out! Shit, they even got 'em in the white on white!!" he said, his eyes full of joy, his face pressed up to the glass as if he was trying to smell the "white on white". I was never going to get these people to where we needed to be. We had to keep moving and as I looked around for someone else in the group to help me, I noticed they were all fanning out, window shopping as if the mall were open only to them.
Baha bitch was over at Victoria's Secret, eying the different colors and styles of uncomfortable, expensive underwear. Is that the type of thing she was wearing now? I did NOT want to think about it, but those little shrapnel thoughts went piercing into my brain. Ew. To my left was quiet Baha man, trying to see behind a sale poster of a music store to look at the different instruments. Heh... he probably liked them because they were just shiny. Mr. Elvis was bouncing back and forth between the white on whites and the red on blacks, which to me, seemed like an inner racial struggle. Did he want to be fly or gangstga? A baller or a thug? I shook my head. Probably neither, seeing as how his idol was a man who died in the toilet. Neither fly, nor gangsta.
"Can we just PLEASE...?" I said, raising my voice on the last word. Baha bitch turned from her fantasy of thongs and silky robes and took a few steps toward me, stopping to take one last lingering glance, then continuing to me. Its a good thing she did too, because I WAS wearing one of those fancy panties and I was a half a second away from taking them off and giving them to her as a gift if she would JUST MOVE! Silent Baha man had moved to the roped off grand piano in the middle of the hall, sitting in front of it, just looking at the keys. Just.... looking. I watched has he raised his hands to the keys, his posture straightening before he softly started pressing down, creating a soft, beautiful medley. He rocked back and forth, the volume of his notes rising and quickening, becoming an intense flurry of music. Mr. Elvis dropped his hands from the window of the Foot Locker and walked over to where us girls stood. Silent Baha Man was in his own world, entranced at his own playing. We had all come over to watch, being careful to stay far away enough to not spook him into stopping. The music sounded so complicated and I was amazed how fast his fingers were flying. He looked so silly, playing such gorgeous music in fake Jamacian garb. When he finally stopped, he turned to us, still sitting on the bench.
"I've never heard you do that before."
"Dat was some magical ivory ticklin', mah broddah!"
"What was it?" I asked. Silent Baha Man looked down at the keys, then back at me and shrugged his shoulders. "Did you just make it up?" I inquired. His eyes fell slightly to the left, and as he bit his bottom lip, he shrugged again. It was incredible! This ridiculous Jamacian fake was probably the Chopin of our time! Everyone was stunned, and the only thing I could think was that if Mr. Elvis said something about being "all shook up", I was going to slam his head into the piano, a'la Daffy Duck.
"Should we keep going?" asked Baha bitch. As the others agreed, I turned to her and almost slapped her. Wasn't this the notion I had been trying to accomplish?!?
"We're going, we're going," Mark said, finally popping up to contribute. I wasn't sure if I wanted to smack him, too, or be grateful that he was agreeing to finally get a move on. Either that or he saw that my blood pressure was quickly reaching dangerous levels. "Come on, we need to find that Godiva store."
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Ya'll are so excited, don't even LIE!
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