Life In The City
Friday, January 6, 2012
A Night At The Mall
One night, a couple years ago maybe, I had gone over to Gelson's at the Westfield Century City (formerly known simply as Century City Shopping Center, or Century City Mall). After the store closed, I decided to take a look around the mall. I had been going there for 20 years. My first visit was in 1989 when they still had a record store called Nickelodeon. I eventually grew very fond of that store, as well as Brentano's, the AMC 14 Theatres, Toys International, Johnny Rockets, and the old newsstand in the food court on the main level. In fact, the main level was the ONLY level in the old days, other than whatever second levels existed in the department stores and the cinema.
The mall is different now. Most of the old stores are gone, replaced by new stores that are popular with a new generation of shoppers. I know the only constant in life is change, but as I walked around the center after everything but the new AMC 15 was closed for the day, I started feeling homesick. After so many years of having everything a certain way, I had gotten attached to the way it used to be.
As I wandered near the underside of an escalator, I saw a custodian working near a door that I had not noticed before. Come over here, sir, he said to me. I have something I want to show you. He opened the door, a door that didn't seem to have any purpose, as it seemed to lead straight into the innards of the escalator, and beckoned me to step into it. I crossed over the threshold.
As I stepped through the doorway, I found myself over in the old food court, looking the way it did in the 90's or early 2000's. It was daytime now, although the sun was filtered through a heavy layer of cloud cover. It was approximately noon, and a brunch was being served by the management. The group of tables and chairs normally set in the food court had been extended over near the door to Brentano's and the ticket windows for the old AMC 14. All of the people eating were dressed up for a special occasion, and most of them were older. There were flowers arranged on some of the tables, but for some reason I could not smell them.
A waiter offered me a seat and I sat down across from an elderly couple. They smiled and nodded, but didn't offer anything in the way of conversation. The waiter served me my brunch and I started to eat. I could not taste or smell the food. I started to have a feeling something was out of place, but couldn't quite put my finger on it.
The maitre d' came over to me and asked me how my brunch was. I told him, perhaps not in total honesty, that it was fine, but that I had a question of my own. I asked him, is this real? No, he said, this is another place and another time, and I am afraid you can't stay. I am sorry, but you must go back.
Then I woke up.
The mall is different now. Most of the old stores are gone, replaced by new stores that are popular with a new generation of shoppers. I know the only constant in life is change, but as I walked around the center after everything but the new AMC 15 was closed for the day, I started feeling homesick. After so many years of having everything a certain way, I had gotten attached to the way it used to be.
As I wandered near the underside of an escalator, I saw a custodian working near a door that I had not noticed before. Come over here, sir, he said to me. I have something I want to show you. He opened the door, a door that didn't seem to have any purpose, as it seemed to lead straight into the innards of the escalator, and beckoned me to step into it. I crossed over the threshold.
As I stepped through the doorway, I found myself over in the old food court, looking the way it did in the 90's or early 2000's. It was daytime now, although the sun was filtered through a heavy layer of cloud cover. It was approximately noon, and a brunch was being served by the management. The group of tables and chairs normally set in the food court had been extended over near the door to Brentano's and the ticket windows for the old AMC 14. All of the people eating were dressed up for a special occasion, and most of them were older. There were flowers arranged on some of the tables, but for some reason I could not smell them.
A waiter offered me a seat and I sat down across from an elderly couple. They smiled and nodded, but didn't offer anything in the way of conversation. The waiter served me my brunch and I started to eat. I could not taste or smell the food. I started to have a feeling something was out of place, but couldn't quite put my finger on it.
The maitre d' came over to me and asked me how my brunch was. I told him, perhaps not in total honesty, that it was fine, but that I had a question of my own. I asked him, is this real? No, he said, this is another place and another time, and I am afraid you can't stay. I am sorry, but you must go back.
Then I woke up.
Labels: sentimental journey
