KILLED BY CARPETS

My friend and I decide to meet at a place that's in between her house and mine and find ourselves at the Woburn Mall.  Anyone who is familiar with the area can tell you that the location of this mall is key: right off two major highways, around the corner from the industrial district, and situated on two very busy roads.

However, other than two anchor stores and a couple of die-hards, the place is deserted.  Half of the stores are empty, and we are among possibly thirty people milling around inside the mall itself.  Both anchor stores are crowded beyond reason: a local chain grocery store and a HomeGoods store.  My friend and I are fans of TJ Maxx/Marshalls/HomeGoods, so we wander in for a look-see.

Holy crap.  Holy crap on a goddamn cracker.  THIS STORE IS AMAZING.  This store is IKEA for people with agoraphobia who want a side of clothing with their furniture purchases.

This particular HomeGoods store has the best selection of clothing for every size and gender that I have seen in years at other stores, including specialty department stores.  It also has fabulous jewelry, tons of home gadgets, and enough furniture and decor to redo entire mansions.  It has beauty products, pet products, sporting goods, and Halloween costumes for kids.

It also has rugs.  RUGS.  Yes, rugs.  No, not the rolled up kind at WalMart or Home Depot, although they do have some of those kinds of rugs.  These are the master-class of rugs: room-sized, Oriental style, modern, decorative, and heavy as sons of bitches. 

The rugs are suspended from the ceiling by a contraption that allows consumers to see what the rug looks like all splayed out then pull the carpet sideways to expose the next rug.  Moving these monstrous rugs, even with the help of mechanical technology, is difficult.  The first few times I try to "flip over" to a new rug, the old rug comes swinging backward and basically kicks the living shit out of me.  Several times I am trapped between two humongous suspended rugs like cheese on a sandwich.

Finally, after freeing myself from the rug maze, I realize that the rug left in view is probably the best one in the batch.  It's not as large as the others that smush me into the sandwich (9 X 12 feet), but it is just as heavy.  It's an uneven tufted pattern of color.  I lean in closer and realize that the entire rug is starting to look like it has a more intricate woven pattern. 

This is when another rug that hasn't quite settled firmly into place decides it's time for fresh air.  The giant rug pulls at its metal hanging rod high above, and the momentum sends the rug careening back at me. I do not even have time to move.  I am suddenly smacked upside my head with the full force of an Oriental rug on steroids.  I am now officially a HomeGoods flapjack, just me and a bunch of rugs that are suspended from on-high like silver-dollar pancakes stacked at IHOP.

My friend, of course, is laughing and can't help me much because the entire rack of rugs probably weighs about 10,000 pounds.  She does, however, assist me in pushing my way out like some kind of spelunker suddenly shone the light of day after a near-death cave experience.  When my eyes re-focus to safety again, I notice the lovely rug that I'd begun admiring when this whole incident started: a bluish print style carpet with shapes on it resembling a mosaic.

How appropriate. Thank goodness the mosaic pattern is for admiring and not marking my rug-induced grave.  I may have been as dead as some of the stores in the mall.  But, on a positive note, my carpeted demise would probably make the news and create a buzz of activity at the mall again, so I suppose my survival or not would equal a successful shopping experience.