A Mall Patron’s Inner-Monologue

All this commerce has worn me out. I could go for a slice of pizza at Sbarro, sit down and kick my feet up on one of those imitation cast-iron chairs. (Mall patron enters the food court, purchases food and takes a seat). Now that is odd. Why are all these people yelling, “Watch out for that falling Asian kid, you dumb bitch!”? Oh. That is why.

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