Gnashville
Thundercat and I took an impromptu trip to Nashville last week. Why? Why not?
As she worked in the day, I spent most of the time holed up in the hotel room, doing pretty much whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to. Nice. When she returned in the evening, we'd go to the mall and get something to eat.
Opryland Mills Mall is... well, it's unquestionably big, but I can't say I enjoyed it much. For starters, a mall jammed with stores is wasted on someone who frequents only the same two or three places anytime he goes to a mall, and whose idea of "shopping" is to "go in, get what you want, pay for it, leave and be done with it", not "go in, look at stuff, look at more stuff, keep looking at stuff, leave, go to a different store that has the same stuff, lather, rinse, repeat." No, the big problem I had with this mall was the kiosks. Every mall has kiosks, to be sure, but these kiosks were staffed with the pushiest salespeople I've met in this country. The experienced forced a flashback to Cozumel, a port of call on our honeymoon, where every crappy trinket store -- all selling the exact same crappy trinkets, mind -- had barkers standing out front, urging you to enter and purchase their wares. Those guys were irritating. The mall's salespeople were flat-out obnoxious, to the point where, if you refused to stop and look at their stuff, it became an invitation to calumny. I'm pretty sure I got cursed out in Hindi by a girl who seemed deeply concerned about the health of my cuticles; I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, as my back was turned when I heard... whatever it was I heard.
The Opryland Mills mall has the world's worst Macaroni Grill, where part of my lasagna -- I'm not kidding -- was burnt to an inedible lump of carbon.
Oh, and they also have an oxygen bar. If you don't know what an oxygen bar is, I encourage you to look it up. Suffice it to say that it is one of the most bizarre concepts you'll ever try to wrap your brain around.
As she worked in the day, I spent most of the time holed up in the hotel room, doing pretty much whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to. Nice. When she returned in the evening, we'd go to the mall and get something to eat.
Opryland Mills Mall is... well, it's unquestionably big, but I can't say I enjoyed it much. For starters, a mall jammed with stores is wasted on someone who frequents only the same two or three places anytime he goes to a mall, and whose idea of "shopping" is to "go in, get what you want, pay for it, leave and be done with it", not "go in, look at stuff, look at more stuff, keep looking at stuff, leave, go to a different store that has the same stuff, lather, rinse, repeat." No, the big problem I had with this mall was the kiosks. Every mall has kiosks, to be sure, but these kiosks were staffed with the pushiest salespeople I've met in this country. The experienced forced a flashback to Cozumel, a port of call on our honeymoon, where every crappy trinket store -- all selling the exact same crappy trinkets, mind -- had barkers standing out front, urging you to enter and purchase their wares. Those guys were irritating. The mall's salespeople were flat-out obnoxious, to the point where, if you refused to stop and look at their stuff, it became an invitation to calumny. I'm pretty sure I got cursed out in Hindi by a girl who seemed deeply concerned about the health of my cuticles; I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, as my back was turned when I heard... whatever it was I heard.
The Opryland Mills mall has the world's worst Macaroni Grill, where part of my lasagna -- I'm not kidding -- was burnt to an inedible lump of carbon.
Oh, and they also have an oxygen bar. If you don't know what an oxygen bar is, I encourage you to look it up. Suffice it to say that it is one of the most bizarre concepts you'll ever try to wrap your brain around.
posted by TM520 | 1:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home