Give me strength, O morning smoothie: I'm going to go to the mall today.
Fortify me against crowds, Muzak, escalators, bling, and the dizzying abundance of so many things.
Remind me, when a young man with a mesmerizing voice calls me gorgeous, that he does not really think I'm gorgeous. He merely wants to sell me an elixir that may or may not be the fountain of youth.
Wrap protective gear around my brain as I venture inside a store for young people. You know. Those cavernous pits of branded merchandise pulsating with noise that are so dimly lit you can hardly tell if the sweater you're buying is navy or charcoal.
I hope it's charcoal.
Rally my spirits, dear smoothie. Talk me through this.
Please do not let me get lost, or let me forget where I parked. And if I'm in a parking garage, please reassure me that there is, indeed, an exit. Somewhere.
Remind me to ask every elderly gentleman I pass who's leaning against a counter with a look of indeterminate boredom on his face if he's having fun yet.
That's the only good part about going to the mall.