Change in Perspective :: Personal Narrative Abercrombie Papers

Change in PerspectiveSaturday morning, prison term to blow through and through Fridays paycheck at the m on the whole.After entering through the massive glass doors into Summerset Plaza, I am overwhelmed with the sheer size and exquisite detail of the structure.Marble covers the wall(a)s and flooring while the ceiling is masked in a network of geometric arcs that fight grit the giant pieces of glass creating a gigantic skylight.Walking further towards my favorite store, I pass through the center of the mall where lies an elegant marble squirt with perfect symmetry pouring water off in all directions.From here all three main wings and the three stories on each wing are visible.There are more stores than I would always want to enter, filling up both inch the mall has to offer.at once, politic walking and within one hundred feet from my destination I back begin to hear the music radiating from within, over powering the malls choice of songs.Getting adjacent to the store I can now see the blue awnings over each window and the words Abercrombie & Fitch that rest just above the oak boarded glass doors.Before entering the store I take time to examine the newest styles that clothe the mannequins in the windows.From here I can easily hear each lyric of the song that echoes out the store, I am intimidated.After giving myself an idea of what there is to buy I proceed into Abercrombie. Now inside and completely intimidated by my surroundings, I do my beat to get what I want and get out.Unfortunately that is not as lightsome as I had planned.The music is disorienting, coming very loudly from all angles, and I have not the slightest clue as to who is behind me or what he or she is saying.Then I begin to realize how bright the surroundings is, and I can actually feel the heat of the bulbs on the back of my neck.Feeling completely uncomfortable and out of place, I take a interpret around to observe how others are acting in the same situation.Peering around, I s ee primarily all teenagers who look identically like the mannequins on the tables.Every guy is tall, handsome, and spruced up perfectly and all the girls are slender, pretty, and again dressed in the latest fashion.Now that I have developed an inferiority complex, I try to take my eyes off the people and onto the merchandise.Browsing around I see the countless stacks of perfectly folded pants covering every wall, and every sweater, button-down, t-shirt, and hooded sweatshirt meticulously placed into stacks of ten or twelve.