One third life crisis

I think this qualifies as a one third life crisis because I hope to live a least to ninety. My ultimate goal is to be a feisty old lady (some would say I'm already there) who pops wheelies down the hall of my nursing home in pursuit of the newest arrival to Shady Pines or Pine Crest or Cedar View (It seems old people have a desire to live in places that are named after coniferous trees, or at least young people who create these bastions for the elderly are under that impression. I can't imagine why.)

Anyway, back to my one third life crisis which involves hanging with the juvies at the mall. And not even a good mall. In fact it was half a mall because the other half was under construction. I went to visit a friend and her new baby in Toronto, two bus trips and a short walk away from where I was staying. Bus number 2 dropped me off at the aforementioned half mall where I went avidly in search of a pay phone to call my friend. Let's stop for a historical point: Pay phones are the phones that are attached to the wall and cost 25 cents to use for an unlimited time. I honestly don't think that this needs explaining, but I recieved more than a few quizzical looks. It turns out the half mall doesn't have payphones and if they did, as I was informed by the geriatric salesclerk at Sears, they would cost 50 cents. Yikes!

Passing through the linen section on my way to the nearest exit, I was swarmed by a group of shrieking girls and salivacious boys who had obviously been set free on a day pass. A policeman, their minder or a coincidental encounter, found me paralysed clinging to the display of gaudy cotton-blend beach towels as I waited for the crowd and their lingering body odour to pass. Maybe he would clear a path for me to escape. Oh wait . . . He's coming towards me. . . Oh NO! He almost slugged a kid . . . Woops! Pretend I didn't see that. He's closer. Now speaking to me. . . What was that, officer? I shouldn't be hanging out with kids like this at the mall? You've got to be kidding.

The only good that came of that horrific little encounter, the first of many passing through the half mall, was that I could pass for 15. On second thought, that's not such a great thing after all.