One would call me an observer. I’m one of those people that go to malls, not looking for anything to purchase, but to watch the world go by without knowing of my existence. The best time to see the world unravel is at 4:00pm. It doesn’t matter what mall you go to or the day you visit. All you need to know is that this is the time of day most people are present. Though if you are curious, it’s a cloudy January day. It just finished raining so the smell of mud and damp cotton are fresh in the air; the scent of sanitary sprays and flower perfumes slowly being devoured by this intruder.

I take a seat on those tanned leather benches and absorb the pearl glazed tiles and reflective glass windows that present the latest fashion trends. They’re still using those idealistic figures to help people feel even more self-conscious about their perfectly healthy bodies. It doesn’t take too long to hear heels clicking against the floor, the squeaking of new sneakers being broken in, and the sudden increase of chatter.

The teens stride into my view with chins held high, sporting leggings and joggers, with various ear piercings, and holding designer bags in the crook of their arms. Looks to me that they’re willing to spend $300 on a purse than on their school tuition. But who am I to judge. Their obnoxious voices overlap with the clacks of shoes, of crinkling shopping bags, of crying children being pushed in strollers, at people yelling at their phones unable to hear the person on the other end.

And with this, I’ve had enough of this buzz of static. Slipping my headphones on, I make my way for the exit.