If anything, I have Eric to blame for all of this reminiscing.
I’m reminded of Carriedo, where the first Shoemart store was opened. We all have a good idea of those small clearance stores where shoes and clothes, sold at discount rates, were held at a stockroom on the second floor. A particular size or style of shoes would be ordered by the customer. The cashier would ring it up, and in the tradition of bowling pinboys, shove the boxes down a chute or, at times, a hole in the ceiling.
Tretornwhitelowcutsizesix, Tretornwhitelowcutsizesix… poof. There’s your shoe. You don’t like the shoe? A magical hook appears from the same hole in the ceiling, and the shoes are taken back to the stockroom. You wanted Kaypeebluehightopsizeseven, or at the very least NewBalancetwotonetrainersizesixandahalf.
There used to be a time that attracting people to malls meant things like the coldest airconditioning possible, and probably a rollercoaster in the atrium. Or having wi-fi to begin with. These days, almost every mall now offers free wi-fi. Now you can corral the laptop-bearing elites, while the technological plebeians stare from behind the fences. I kid, but you can have a good idea of the digital divide by entering a coffee shop, and picking your way between those who use laptops and smartphones, and those who don’t.
I don’t really mind public wi-fi, if not for the fact that my life has to depend on getting Internet where I can, when I can. While a wi-fi’ed SM Carriedo probably won’t work, I can see a future for it in hashtagged shoeboxes and converting Barn Buddy coinage and Farm Town crops for brassieres. Who needs money? Social media is the biznitch. You can buy those new socks and charge them to PayPal.
Yet things don’t have to change for the total tech mall. Them holes in the ceiling are part of the charm.