Character Sketch #18

It’s an odd mixture of hipsters and strippers at this new mall, sprinkled liberally with saggy-pantsed gangstas, rich white ladies, and classic four-piece nuclear families. 

Is he old enough to drive? I can’t tell anymore. Maybe his mother dropped him off. But no, she was waiting for him on a nearby bench while he bought cookies to cram in his mouth by the handful. He brushes the crumbs from his fingers onto his shorts and helps her carry the Dillard’s bags. 

He’s mall walking age, but the three piece suit tells me that’s not what he’s here for, as does his pose, leaning against the ladies wear storefront. His daughter comes out of the store, bag in hand, and they set off together. Perhaps she chose the flower for his lapel. 

Rhinestones sparkle from her neck and wrists, and the clear acrylic platform heels click against the floor tiles as she rapidly walks by, holding a loud conversation via speakerphone. Oh no, honey, she got to get her hair did. 

She drags two school aged children along behind her, scolding them each time they pause to explore some shiny distraction. She’s in a hurry; she has to be out of here by eight, she keeps repeating, whether to herself or to passersby or to me, I’m unsure. The children plead for escape with their eyes. 

He sits next to his expensive girlfriend, texting on his expensive phone and wearing his expensive shoes. She talks without pause for breath, gesturing broadly with both hands. He continues to text, ignoring her. 

Black button up shirt, black bow tie,black slacks that stop just shy of his ankle bone, black socks, polished black shoes. His face is stern and his beard neatly trimmed and sharply outlined. He stares straight ahead, no matter who he passes.