I have never mentioned this escapade to my dearest friends, our children, siblings or extended family.
After four years it’s safe to write about being trapped on a roof in Dallas’ preeminent shopping center.
It all began as my husband and I exited the movie theater. It was darker than Ted Cruz heart.
I should have known better than to follow a man who completely disappears in a nano second, and ends up at the opposite end of the store in Target.
Fully aware of his navigation deficit, I followed him through the nearest door. Instead of entering the lobby we found ourselves in the 3 p.m. August sun on a concrete rooftop. Laughter at our stupidity turned to disbelief as the door we had exited would not open for re-entry. We were locked out.
Wandering around on the roof, we discovered an atrium window where we could observe people in line at the concession stand at the movies several floors below. We waved, but no one heard or saw us.
Ah, not to worry, we have our cell phones. Who do we call – mall security? They might have us arrested. I had the theater number in my call history. I tried to call and discovered there was no wireless signal on either cell phone.
I was hot, thirsty, needed to pee and stuck on a rooftop in Dallas, Texas in one hundred and hell degrees. I was glad I had showered and put on clean clothes so as not to embarrass my family when they came to identify my remains.
To his credit, my husband is a good man in a crisis and told me to sit down that he would walk the roof and try to find an open door. It was a big roof and his ability to locate exits was seriously in question, so I vetoed that suggestion. And to be fair, I had blindly followed him out the door, so we would search together.
Eventually, we did find a doorway that led to a flight of stairs, twelve to be exact, that led to an opening to the mall.
Later at home with the thermostat set on freezing, while we slugged down a cold beer, the incident was funny. We agreed there are some things you just don’t tell——-until now.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.