kuldeep singh
Google
A Stinking Sewer of Disappointment: Avoid This Mall Like the Plague
Oh god, where do I even start with this godforsaken dump? From the second you step foot into this so-called “mall,” you’re hit with a wall of stench so foul it feels like you’ve wandered into a backed-up septic tank during a heatwave. It’s not just a smell—it’s an assault on your nostrils, a rancid cocktail of rotting produce, unwashed bodies, and whatever mystery sludge is festering in the corners. Unhygienic? That’s putting it mildly; this place is a petri dish for every germ known to man, with sticky floors that cling to your shoes like they’re begging for mercy and bathrooms that look like they haven’t seen a scrub brush since the Stone Age.
And don’t get me started on the grocery store—it’s the epicenter of this nightmare. The moment you cross that threshold, bam! A filthy, eye-watering reek slams into you like a truck, courtesy of wilted veggies sweating in their own juices and meat counters that smell like they’ve been marinating in despair for weeks. I gagged just browsing the aisles, dodging puddles of who-knows-what while trying not to touch anything. Not recommended? Hell, I’d rather gnaw on my own arm than shop here.
Food? Ha! If you can call it that. The court options are a parade of greasy slop that’s somehow both burnt and undercooked, tasting like it was whipped up by a sadist with a grudge against flavor. Greasy fries that slide down your throat like regret, burgers that ooze mystery fluids—it’s all a culinary crime scene. The entire mall is a soul-crushing letdown, from the flickering lights and peeling paint to the half-empty stores staffed by zombies who couldn’t care less if you live or die.
Look, you can try it once if you’re the type who needs to poke the bear to believe it’s rabid, but trust me: learn from my mistake and spare yourself the trauma. Save your valuable time, your sanity, and whatever’s left of your sense of smell. This place isn’t a mall—it’s a warning from the universe to turn around and run. One star feels generous; zero would be more like it.
