Mary Worth and Bonnie stop by Mrs. May's Cookies, which happens to be precariously perched on some sort of dangerous ledge overlooking Moysies Department Store. 
This made me think of our own local mall, which a year or two ago lost our favorite shop, Mrs. Fields Cookies. We still mourn. It was such a heartbreak. Last week, Mrs. Wanders and I were wandering through the mall, wishing we could have some butter with flower in it, and came across a line of young women who had been waiting all day to audition for a television show, I think called America's Next Top Model. There were hundreds of these women, all dressed very much alike, most wearing tank tops and high heels that were way too inappropriate for standing in line. Our local weekly put together an interesting package on the event. Most of these young women seemed so hopeful, so full of dreams. They had to be living in a dream world to make it through the hours of waiting. But what they were waiting for, I don't think I can ever really understand.Today's Full Strip
6 comments:
What they thought they were waiting for? Multi-million dollar contracts, penthouse flats in exciting world cities, the constant attention of a legion of handsome escorts, and constant, never-ending glamour - all for working about 30 minutes a week and being born with the "right" bone structure.
What they were really waiting for? To become fodder for reality TV.
Incidentally, anyone who has ever known a shopaholic can tell you that Bonnie is so far from being an accurate portrayal that she makes Aldo Kelrast look hyper-realistic.
Okay, I will admit that I hate malls and stay out of them as much as possible, which probably leads to my ignorance on this point: If you go to a mall and eat at the food court, split one hamburger between two people, and, by the way, don't get so much as a paper napkin or plate, do you really pay for that, after eating it, at the cookie counter? And since when did Mary Worth stop frequenting the fine restaurants of Santa Royale and start eating at shopping centers? Is there no limit to how far she will go to gather gossip...er, help people?
Personally, I blame all this on Toby. She won't be Mary's friend any more if Mary doesn't bring her salacious new stuff.
I didn't mean to pry. HaHaHa...heeheeehee...bwaahaha. And I shall happily allow you to pay for my lunch....Oh, Mary. Moy really hates you.
Our city's mall is so lame it's dismissively referred to as "the small" by us locals. As in, "I have to run to the small for a pair of shoes".
See? Compulsive spending and compulsive eating, all wrapped up in a neat little package of cookies paid for with a credit card.
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