My daughter and I wait until dinnertime, hoping that the mall traffic has thinned out, but we are wrong. The entire Merrimack Valley has come from north, east, south, and west to converge on Salem, NH, and tax-free, post-Christmas bargains. The lines of cars weaving in and out of the strip malls lining route 28 create gridlock.
The mall is no better. I direct my daughter (she is driving) to the far end of the mall, down near the faltering Sears store that has already lost its second floor to Dick's Sporting Goods. The doors at this end open only to Sears, and, since people don't flock to Sears that much anymore, there are often rogue spaces up for grabs.
We score a second row space, better field position than any ordinary shopping day, then head inside with our grand plans of hitting several stores. Once we are inside, it is obvious that this will not be the case. We are going to get in, go to the two stores on our "must do" list, and get out, hopefully with our skins intact.
The place is mobbed. People are in every nook, cranny, alley, and egress. It looks like two nearby cities plucked citizens from their curbs and puked them back inside the already overstuffed mall. We swim-walk against the current of humans like salmon traveling upstream. We see strange sights (workers' and customers' patience right now are at strenuous levels, and people are moving remarkably slowly), and we listen to the cacophony of multiple conversations flying through the air.
We do survive, barely, and a bidding war ensues for our parking space once we abandon it. Life is good! The mall is soon behind us, and we get into traffic and onto the highway in good order thanks to our Sears parking strategy -- easy exit to the roadway rather than through the inner-mall demolition derby.
Merry Day After Christmas; Happy Boxing Day; Celebrate Stay Away from the Mall Day.
