Friday, February 5, 2010

Mini Mall....



"Wonders of the mini mall,

Have I time to name them all?"




Lame rhyming aside, the Denton Mini Mall is one of my favorite places in North Texas.  Overflowing with equal parts rare finds and useless knick-knacks, one could wander around the place for hours.  Copious amounts of records, old cameras, clothing, accordions, costume jewelry....the list goes on and on.  I myself hope to one day inhabit the mini mall, skulking around at all hours of the night, Phantom-of-the-Opera style.  But I digress....

Today's visit was particularly interesting because of my extended conversation with the cashier.  Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't generally strike up conversations (or engage in prolonged eye contact) with random strangers.  I tend to attract the crazies, especially older crazies (this gentleman was definitely in his 50s)....Anyway, as I approached the counter to pay for my records (one a compilation of 70's love ballads, the other Cuban music as orchestrated by Percy Faith), I inadvertently overheard the tail-end of his phone conversation:
"Well, if she ever talked to me like that, I'd get behind her and push her down some stairs."

Hmm.  Already off to a good start.  I guessed, by the smell of cheap vodka emanating from his pores, that his advice was probably just the alcohol talking.  I hoped anyway.  As I edged closer to the counter (slower and with added caution, not wanting to make any sudden movements) the cashier excused himself from his rant session.  If I hadn't just heard the guy threaten someone's life, and he didn't smell like a dirty martini, I would have thought him to be a completely different person.  All smiles, he asked if I'd found what I was looking for.  I tentatively mumbled a "Yes, thank you" as I started to pull out my wallet.  After looking over my choices, he told me I should visit his friend next door (at Mini Mall II--yes, there are two of them!!) to look through his collection of rare 70s and 80s rock and soul records.  Then he explained the reason the vendor I bought my records from owned a ridiculous amount of records (he was amazingly lucid for consuming what I'm pretty sure was a profuse amount of alcohol at 10:45 am).  Apparently, the person that owes the vendor money is paying her in records--10,000 records over time, to be exact.  Interesting.  I knew the section grew larger every time I browsed through it, but the story is classic mini mall.

I can't wait to visit you again mini mall.... ♥