A volunteer gig took me to the mall this holiday season. My normal policy is to give malls a wide berth right then. Because they can be Blade Runnerish nightmares, am I right? Not that I am immune to the lures of the consumer world. No. A fragrant miracle cream, a glowing box of Godiva chocolates, a statement necklace—I’m in. My credit card is out.
But altruism girl, not material girl, was on top, so I manned my little post, and watched the people.
Santa was around the corner. LEGOLAND® was up the escalator. Priscilla the Pink Pig was next door. You don’t know her? She is quite local.
The people were like this: Some solitary shoppers looked anxious or cranky. Heads down, hands grasping bags. Prestigious bags, cause it was a fancy mall, full of spots like Tiffany’s. I decided the more bags people lugged, the grimmer they looked. Could that be so?
People bringing the younglings to see Santa or LEGOLAND® had another look.
They looked around. They smiled. I know where they were going because I had an entry spot, and they often asked me for directions. I know where they had been because they sported stickers after. No one asked me for Priscilla because she was at the mall next door, but she was on my mind.
Priscilla, since you asked, was a monorail train in the form of a pink pig. Starting in 1953, she trundled along the ceiling of Rich’s department store in downtown Atlanta. Despite moves and corporate mergers, her glorious reign continues at Macy’s. Since 2003 she and her friend Percival run in a tent on top of a parking deck. She raises money for Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta. She did this in the past, and for a time ran at Egleston Children’s Hospital.
