Community mall for more than shopping

Sue Clark

Condo life has its ups and downs, as I’m certainly discovering. I

happen to be one of the “ups,” and by living on the second level,

I’ve been stripped of a backyard. My dog and I have always taken the

yard/canine restroom area for granted (or “for granite”, as my

students sometimes write). We’re now forced to take numerous small

outings around the neighborhood for Wilson to find a “back yard.”

Fortunately, I live close to a little shopping center on 17th

Street, containing the usual market, drug store, coffeehouse and

small eateries and boutiques. I often combine Wilson’s business with

pleasure and have a coffee at one of the outdoor tables.

The people-watching is always amusing and my active writer’s

imagination forces me to eavesdrop a bit to find out more about

personalities, motivation, and ... OK, let’s face it, I’m nosy.

The center habitues are an eclectic lot. There are lots of young

parents with small children in tow. The best of the children have

been trained in how to approach a dog, and come slowly up to Wilson,

hand outstretched and caution in their eyes. The more unruly will

race up, and try to grab Wilson, causing him to cower under my chair.

When they are not successful, they race crazily around the plaza in

search of a more outgoing dog.

Then there are the nouveau riche. Once, I saw two drop-dead

gorgeous blond women, perhaps in their late 20s, discussing home

furnishings.

“I told him, ‘no, I don’t think so’,” one was saying, “I want the

paint and the primer mixed to my specifications on site. You mix one

for me, if I don’t like it, you mix another. Do you understand? Do I

need to clarify? I want the yellow to shine out of the red. Do you

need more of an explanation?”

“You are so mean,” laughed the other one, flipping her hair and

sipping her latte.

“Honey, you know I’m not mean, but if he wants to think so, that’s

fine with me.”

There’s also a hilarious group of store employees, whom I call the

6 a.m. Crowd, taking their first break of the morning by the

coffeehouse. They’ve all been friends for a long time; it’s obvious.

There are inside jokes -- one woman who could be a stand-up comic --

and much camaraderie. I try not to stare at them, but sometimes I

can’t help laughing when they crack jokes, which end in such punch

lines as, “I don’t think this was the placebo.” I didn’t even hear

the joke, but I started laughing at the punch line.

I usually go into the market for the nondesigner coffee and a

special little doughnut that only this store has. It’s not that I

obsess about this doughnut, but one time there were five and I bought

them all and froze four, just in case. The doughnut provides the

pleasure, but there’s a store manager that almost keeps me from

entering the market. Each time I bring up the coffee and sweet, he

says in a booming voice, “Well, hello there, young lady!”

I hate being called “young lady.” I can’t tell you how much I

dread this greeting. I know he’s just trying to be nice, so I’m

hesitant to tell him how awful it sounds when you are an older lady

and you get called “young lady.” It feels like they are trying to

cheer up the elderly, and they think we’ll be so thrilled that

someone mistook us for a young person. I’m 56; I know how old I am.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll say, “Well hello, there, old man.”

There are so many other wonderful people hanging around. It feels

like an old-time town square. There’s an insomniac who comes over

around dawn with one of his many books in hand, and a couple that are

two of the most interesting and kind people in Newport Beach. Another

dog owner is an artist, and our dogs enjoy hanging out while we chat.

I was upset at first that my dog would need all these walks around

the neighborhood, but they say good comes out of every adversity. I’d

tell you more, but it looks like we gotta go.

* SUE CLARK is a Newport Beach resident and a high school guidance

counselor at Creekside High School in Irvine.