So I know it’s going to sound really weird, but I’m as of right now sitting in the Mall of America, blogging.
Let me assure you that I had no idea it would come to this. After speaking to several people before my trip, I decided that wild horses couldn’t drag me to this place. For one thing, I’m not a huge fan of malls in general, and the way it was described to me made my skin start to crawl. “It’s four malls stacked on top of one another” one person told me. “You can get married there!” said another. There’s a roller coaster and a ferris wheel and a shitton of people and more capitalism than you can shake a stick at. None of which appeal to me in the least.
So how the hell did I end up here? Well, I’ll tell you. Out of curiosity, I asked one of the locals yesterday morning during our meeting whether Minneapolis had an H&M. “Yep, we’ve got one,” she said, “in the Mall of America.” Urp.
I thought my last day here (today) would entail more meetings until early afternoon, at which time I’d shop a bit downtown and then head to the airport. But it turned out that we were done by 10 AM. I still had time to walk down to the river (more on that later) and walk back, take the shuttle to the airport, check my bag, and take the light rail to the biggest mall, like, ever. Because dammmit, how the hell do Indy and Minneapolis have H&M and Denver still not? I couldn’t resist the temptation of low-priced yet fashionable clothing from one of my favorite stores that I hardly ever get to go to. So here I sit, post-H&M, post-pee, in the middle of eating my southwestern “crepe” with chicken. Somehow there’s wireless I can steal. And why the hell not blog about the MofA when I’m entrenched in it?
For your consideration, a few pictures. I’ll take more before I head back to the airport so everyone can see how awesome this place is. The best part is how sparkly the weird artificial lights make my ring look.