Lessons Learned from the Creeper at the Mall

       I am hoping when you see this picture, you won't say, "Oh look, Lisa's posted a picture of herself."  

      I guess it is a 'selfie' of sorts.  There was this activity planned by the youth.  "Lets play 'Where's Waldo' at the Mall!"  I remembered, years ago, searching the picture book for Waldo; my little ones around me....but not sure how that translated into finding 'Waldo' at the Mall. 

      "The leaders will dress up so we won't recognize them.  They will plant themselves outside of different stores and we will be given clues to find them." 

       "Whaaaaat?"

      An hour before the event, I am grocery shopping with a headache.  At the dairy case I begin thinking about how I could cancel.  "I'm sorry, I really wanted to be there but I have a headache."  That would do but did I really want to be there?    Dressing up makes me nervous.  Its somehow too far out of my comfort zone.  It feels out of control.  I notice my hands are sweaty.  Minutes are ticking by...  They are planning on me.  By the time I get to the meat counter, I am resolved.  I am not a flake and there's pretty much nothing I wouldn't do for these youth.  I load my groceries and slam the door.  "I can do this."

      Earlier that day, I'm on the phone with my friend, Heather.  "What exactly am I going to dress up as?  "A skater", she says.  "You could be a skater dude."
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      I figure that's as easy as anything else.  Okay, I'll be a skater.  I rush home, unload groceries and begin my search for that skater look.  I find the pants, the t-shirt, the flannel, ....still too recognizable. 

      Lose the wedding rings.  Remove the make-up.  My hair - what about my hair?  I remember the mullet wig in the Halloween box.  I pull it on.  Add a black beanie. Shoes? What shoes to wear?  I put on my husband's Converse.  They are boats on my feet...but they work.  I am nearly unrecognizable.  My 15-year-old son gets home.  He comes down the hallway, turns the corner and finds me.  He takes in air.  "MOM!!??  What are you doing?"  

      "Oh, you know, being a skater.  Going to the mall - to ride - hang-out - loiter."

       He switches the black beanie for an Active hat, puts sunglasses on my face and gets a black backpack for me to carry.  I sling it over one shoulder.  "No mom, put both arms in the straps".  Its on.  He teaches me how to properly carry the skate board.  "Arm straight, just the fingers curved - like a book."   Okay, I'm ready.  

      I'm told to sit on a bench outside Charming Charlies Jewelry Store.  

      I find the bench, sit down, put my backpack next to me with my board leaning up against the bench.  I get out my phone and begin playing Words with Friends with my sister.   A family walks by.  The kids are snickering. - their parents reminding them of their manners.  I am aware that they are laughing at me.  I look up.  I feel awkward and embarrassed.  I console myself.  I am not really me right now. I am a skater dude, an oddball on the outside.  That's who they are laughing at - not the me on the inside.   A father walks by holding hands with a darling two-year-old.  The father sees me,  seems to hold on tighter to his son and moves past.  

       Oh, if you only knew.  I love two-year-olds.  I've had five of them. 

       A young 20-something man and his girlfriend walk by.  The girlfriend pays little attention but the man is intrigued.  He gives me a sort of curious, cynical smile.  I want the game to be over.  I want to go home.  Be comfortable.  Safe.

      The youth come...they approach but are not sure. They pass by.  One brave girl, Megan, steps back.  I look down at my phone.  She tries to peer under my hat...cautious...searching for me...still at a distance.  "Is that you....?" 

       It is.  

       "IT'S HER, EVERYONE!  I found her."  We take a picture all together. 

                          

      This feels so much better.  They found me.  They know the inside part.  I want them to stay.

       "This is so much fun!", they say as they move on to the next clue.

      I get up and make my way to the food court, our final meeting place.  The twenty-something young man and his girlfriend pass by again.  He is still curious - somewhat perplexed by the skater dude.  He can't help himself.  He leaves his girlfriend and approaches me.  "Dude, do you ride that thing?"   He is pointing to my board - resting at the end of my straight arm on curved fingers - like a book.  He is standing close, mocking me.  He wants an answer.  

      I look at him and say, "I am not a dude."  I suppose he wasn't expecting the feminine voice.  He backs up.  I continue.  "I am a 54-year-old woman, mother of  5."  His cynicism is gone.  His face looks pale.  He stumbles back to his girlfriend and they move quickly down the mall.

      I continue shuffling along in my Converse boats.  Why did I give him so much information?   

      I'm not an overgrown skater, an oddball, or a creeper.  Let me tell you who I really am. 

      And I am aware of the lesson.  Again and again I am taught this same lesson.  

      Try not to judge, Lisa.   Be wise - but not afraid.  Be gentle. Look past the appearance.   Move with love.  Discover the heart.