Let me preface this post by saying that I am ashamed with how many of my more exciting and entertaining blogging material revolves around the world of American Eagle. Let me also say that it is humbling to realize that most of that which goes on in my life that COULD be considered bloggable would be lucky to be turned into a pithy one liner.
My advice to any bloggers out there? Don’t leave college.
Every morning shift at the Eagle is usually pretty quiet. There’s a manager and two associates on duty till about noon, because until lunch time, especially on the sunny days, no one cares too much about coming into the mall. Including us.
On one of these days, I was working the front of the store. If anything, the screaming boredom is muffled just a bit by the people watching made available to me through the front doors of the store. As I was folding some tank tops [$9.95, and in a variety of colors!] I glanced up to take a look at the flow of people going in and out of the food court. That’s when I saw him.
Superman*.
Only take away the good looks, chiseled body, Hollywood paycheck and paparazzi pursued fame. And multiply all that by 4.
Amid the early shoppers and late morning walkers were four men. Shirtless. And potbellied. And hairy. Each with a big red S painted on their chest**. Presumably celebrating slash commemorating the new Superman movie.
I don’t know if you know this, but have you ever seen people at the Gap, American Eagle and other such places wearing those walkie talkies? Well, we use them for everything. Need another jean size? We ask for it. Funny looking customer with an electrical outlet styled haircut? We make fun of it. Saw a naked customer in the fitting rooms? We announce it. And this situation was no different.
Everyone else moved away from their post and went to look outside. The SubParMen had looped around the escalator and the wig and hair straightener cart and came back around in front of the store. You could always tell when they were coming and going because there was an invisible force field that surrounded them for about 8 feet on all sides. No one moved closer to them than that.
One of the managers who had just gotten in for the day was fixed in a gaze. She then mumbled I’m going to get a coffee, and followed them through the mall, updating us on their comings and goings through the headset. Productive morning? Nah, not at all.
Funny as hell? Oh yes, now.
Much later in the day, we all came to a few realizations that made the morning’s events that much more bizarre. The Superman movie hasn’t even opened yet. And our mall doesn’t have a movie theatre.
We still can’t figure out why they were there.
*Did you hear the rumor that the new Superman had to have his…um…package…digitally reduced because it was too…large…to be put in tights?
**Whenever I see someone with a Superman t-shirt on [or in this case, painted on], I’m reminded of Dane Cook and his stand up. He says something along the lines of how he hates it when he sees those t-shirts, and all he wants to do is shoot them in the chest, then say Huh…I guess not.
