Samuel W.
Yelp
Picture this:
You're hopelessly lost in the desert. You've been wandering for days and your insides feel crispier than re-heated saltines.
Your lips are painfully cracked, caked in scabs and you know if you don't find something soon that you're going to keel over and become a permanent addition to the harsh landscape that envelops you.
Riddled with hysteric madness, your crumbled corpse of a shell collapses to its knees. Though your vision clips in and out, your dull eyes focus just long enough to spot the subtle shimmer of a bottle in the near distance.
A pang of adrenaline shoves its way through your collapsing veins and forces you to scramble to your feet. For the first time in days, your limbs ignite and you break into a stumbling run, painfully gulping in the air and pawing at the emptiness before you.
You get closer and closer until you realize--yes, for the love of everything holy, yes--it's a bottle. A bottle -full- of liquid.
Throwing yourself to the ground, you use every last fiber of your being to pry it open and dump the contents down your throat, gasping and sputtering all the while.
The mystery liquid could be your second grade teacher's piss mixed with tiger jizz and it would still be the most delicious thing that had ever passed your lips at that very moment.
You make it out of the desert that day, friend, still clutching the very bottle that saved your life. While you're well on your way to freedom, you take a moment to more closely examine the label.
Relax--it wasn't your old haggy teacher's piss and Bengal spooge--no. It was something far, far more horrifying.
It was Faygo.
Though you're panicked, you remind yourself how delicious it was and vow to keep an open mind to trying it again.
But, predictably, once you have access to a myriad of other liquids, you're (to put it mildly) unenthusiastic the instant the juggalo juice hits your mouth.
Overtime, your distaste grows more and more pronounced.
This mall is that Faygo.
It's great when you've led a quiet life in a shitty little rural town with nothing. It was one of the first 'large' malls I'd ever been to when I moved up here many years ago.
Now, though? It's just... well. It's nothing special. In fact, it's off-putting at times.
The food court is abysmal and almost entirely comprised of knockoff restaurants (IE: "Chick Wich instead of Chik-Fil-A, "Asian Too" instead of... any other recognizable Asian mall place... etc) that don't shine nearly as brightly as their respective counterparts.
Thus, the food ends up being wholly turd-esque even by shitty mall court standards with the same hefty price tag. Blech... no, thanks.
There's literally no reason to come here in a land that nearly has as many malls as lakes. Nothing pops, nothing stands out (apart from the abundant parking).
Okay... maybe it was harsh to compare you to Faygo, Burnsville Center, but I was going for that literary punch, y'know?
Anyway... meh. I'll drag my dry, crumbled corpse of a shell to Rosedale Mall any day over this.