rshort1202

I am at work, in the clearance section. Two or three guys are browsing together over here; one of them approaches me, holding a pure white men's jumpsuit, saying he’s looking for a different size. I quickly scan all of the hanging white items as well as the single rack that’s on the wall by the jeans. I come back over to tell him that I didn’t find any, when we see a folded, white dress shirt on the cream white and fairly empty shelf in front of us at shoulder height. I casually offer it as a possible substitute. He unfolds it to find out that it’s actually a tuxedo vest. He says something like ‘oh nice, a vest,’ like it would actually work for him. As he is unfamiliar and possessing of a sort of expressionless face, I can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s fucking with me. I now unfold another, and this one is actually a dress shirt. It’s close to a jumpsuit in only the material - it’s heavier, like a broadcloth, also a cream white. This guy is actually happy with it and is going to get it. After they have left, I end up putting some items in the clearance next to the kids shoes. The shoes are on a torso-high display and looking pretty disheveled. There are way more things in this section than in real life. I start walking somewhere else, and the whole place is different and much larger than in real life. It seems more open; there’s a sort of skywalk to another part of the mall (or casino? - it feels a little like a casino). Over by it, I briefly help a Hispanic man look for something before I go to do something else. I end up over by the suits fitting room. There’s a computer desk at the wall opposing the opening at which sits Evelyn. I have the impression that someone’s been trying to call me on this radio, but I’m not entirely sure. I ask Evelyn if they have, and she says yes. Someone (the lady at work with sort of darker skin and frizzy hair who I think is a supervisor and whose name I’m not sure of) starts walking over to me, saying that I didn’t really help my customer if I didn’t completely follow through (referencing the Hispanic man). She directs our attention to the man who is standing on the skywalk, arms crossed, but not in an unpleasant way. He’s wearing a plum colored long sleeve with a vest over it, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He seems dependent on the help, not in a co-dependent way, but more like he is turning the trust over to the employee. I tell this supervisor sorry, I was helping someone else and so my radio was down, slowly adjusting the volume up as I speak. I do feel poorly for leaving him and for not hearing the radio. I tell her I know I was helping him, but I forget what for, and ask if she knows. I genuinely am trying to remember. There’s another employee too, and they look slightly incredulous. I can’t tell if they find it funny or think I’m stupid or both. At one point, someone was ridiculing me for something, and it irritated me enough that I considered bringing it up to someone higher up. Anyway, I attempt to make it right and start walking over to the man. There is a rush of people moving in both directions, causing me to lose sight of him. I reach the top of the incline on this skywalk so I can survey it all the way to the bottom, but he is nowhere to be found. I double back and still, nothing. I’m by an elevator now; it is closing, so I get the notion to jump into it while I can. Literally jumping forward into it, the doors brush me on each side before closing on my JCP key lanyard trailing behind me. I pull it out and turn around to be greeted by two Hispanic men. They both seem genial and good-natured, and they both seem to think my jumping into this elevator was somewhat funny if not unexpected. One of them is shorter and more portly; I think he has a mustache. I dryly say either “that was close” or “just barely made it.” They begin talking to me, slipping into Spanish. It is too fluent for me to understand most of it. I think on a different floor now, I see the door closing. It is closing on a chubby white family with a daughter. I don’t know why we haven’t let them on, so I am awkwardly diverting my glance. Doors closed now, we need to choose a floor. They tell me ‘tres’ and I go to press 3 but mistakenly press something else. I can’t entirely read the numbers on the round, silver buttons. For whatever reason, I end up just pressing all of them, the off white light illuminating behind each in succession downwards. I think the elevator is going to the highest floor first. It ascends, and part of the wall must be glass, because I can see what looks like the Atlantis casino outside the elevator. [As in looking into the Atlantis (from within) from the elevator, not as in looking out at the Atlantis]. I think the men now exit and I continue up one more floor. The doors open, revealing a floor that appears to be one huge hot tub. There’s a low ceiling and dim but colored (blue?) lighting that plays on what is either bubbles or an excess of foam. There’s an unassuming swim up bar, and I think a pool up above it. A young boy climbs up and over the bar counter to get to it. I don’t think I’m in the water, but I am conscious of its proximity to my clothes and my radio. I start to think about staying here and using the hot tub, imagining sneaking onto the hotel room floor to find a towel from a room being serviced or the service cart itself. I wonder if anyone at work would notice my prolonged absence, but figure it’s a large place so maybe not.