Locked In

My Mom believes ‘Time is money.” So when I was growing up, whenever we needed to go shopping, we stuck to the stores within a mile radius of our House: Namely the commercial areas of Shadyside and Squirrel Hill. For me that meant everyday ware from Gap Kids, formal ware from Newman’s, and shoes from ‘Buddy’ at Littles. But every once in a while, there was something one of my siblings or I needed that couldn’t be found as easily. Say, a Gameboy game, softball mitt, or more 6X choices in formal ware, because the selection at Newman’s didn’t quite give me enough room in the stomach area. For these items we headed to Monroeville Mall.

This would happen on a pre-scheduled evening after dinner. It would have to be around 7:30 when rush hour traffic was over, the ten-mile drive to Monroeville would only take ten minutes, and we’d basically have most of the Mall to ourselves. My Mom and I would waltz in and out of stores, trying things on and making an occasional purchase. We’d laugh and laugh and love the girl-time that we got to spend with each other.

As it approached 8:45, we would make what I thought to be our final purchase as the announcement, “Attention ladies and gentlemen, the Mall with be closing in 15 minutes” rang over the loudspeaker. The sales lady would be wrapping up my ‘just right’ dress, I'd look up at my Mom with a bit of anxiety and say something like, “Okay, better head back to the car NOW!”

“Hold on one second – I want to look for a baby present for fill-in-the-blank random law office employee du jour.”

“Umm … Mom I don’t know if that’s a good idea … the Mall’s closing in 15 minutes and we have to get out!”

Paying no attention to my building paranoia that I would be locked inside for the evening a la The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, we marched over to the Infants section to find a onesie.

“What do you think of this one?”

“Fine!”

“What do you think of that one?”

“FINE – just get something!”

“Ladies and gentleman … attention please … the Mall will now be closing in ten minutes, please wrap up your shopping and head for the door.”

“MOM – we have to go NOW!”

“We’re fine … calm down.”

Soon enough there were five minutes left till closing and my Mom was now leading me over to Kitchen Wares. I was writhing with worry. I kept thinking that soon enough the bar rails would be coming down and my Mom and I would be locked in the Mall. I wouldn’t get to see Erin, Adam and Dad that night … or maybe ever again. My Mom and I would be goners if we didn’t book-it to the door RIGHT NOW!

As the final announcement rang over the loud speaker I was in tears, screaming and crying that we had to leave – That we weren’t going to make it – That I was SO scared!  My Mom, still debating cutting boards, looked at me like I was crazy (rightly so) and finally gave into my inexplicable paranoia. As we exited the mall and made our way to the Olds 98, my heart decelerated to a normal pace, my eyes dried, I sighed with relief, and I thought to myself, ‘wow, that was close!’ My Mom on the other hand was probably just annoyed with me.

I was never able to understand where this fear of being locked in the Mall came from. However, this week, I feel like I uncovered part of the mystery. I think perhaps we all have an innate fear of being locked in, without escape. Especially, when what’s inside is an unknown or something we have had a bad experience with in the past.

For instance, after a bad experience this week, I will forever have a fear of getting locked in to dinner boat cruises. Especially, ones that have a soggy start. This one began with a downpour as we slowly boarded the Spirit of the Seas making for a wet dress, really bad hair and running mascara; continued with rough waters, lake sickness, bad chardonnay and mosquito bites; and finished with the YMCA, both the electric and cha-cha slides, and a bevy of inebriated conference attendees reliving their high school prom. This was one of those ‘should have read the signs and not committed’ experiences. After three hours and the announcement that we had docked, I ran for the door.

Being locked in can be one of the most horrifying feelings in the world. In a bad ‘lock-in’ the people get more annoying and the headaches keep getting bigger. It’s not so different than being locked in to a horrible relationship. And the fear of commitment for those who have experienced bad relationships can be just as great as my fear of the Mall-closing announcement.

I guess you have to look at the signs first. If the signs leading up to the commitment are pleasant, then there’s a good chance things will stay fun and exciting. For instance, getting locked in the Mall with Mom: A little scary at first due to uncertainty, but based on the fun we were having the whole night, had it happened I think it would have been the best time ever. After the bar rails went down, we’d pick up some Godiva chocolates, do makeovers at the beauty counter, stroll over to the electronics department to catch a rotating flick, then settle down for the night in the biggest, softest canapé bed with the best looking mattress set and hundreds of matching pillows; basically, the best sleepover ever with one of the people that loves me most in life.

However, if there are nothing but bad signs, you’re probably headed toward a really bad boat cruise. If you’re in a relationship where the weather is bad before getting on the boat, you’re only headed for rougher waters. And no state of inebriation that compels you to dance the Macarena and relive the good times will save that relationship. So when push comes to shove, and things are looking bad, run for the door and get out before it gets worse. 

Right now for me ...  I'm thinking there's nothing but sunny skies ahead. So being locked in ... not so scary anymore. 

Lo