Yesterday evening, after my teenage granddaughter had finished her homework, we went at her request to a nearby mall. We drove, of course.
While she was hunting around for some new acquisition of the outlandish apparel teenagers relish these days, I sauntered idly around the shops. The stores are all chains common to malls across our country. She spent her time at two places I had never heard of, Rue 21 and Wet Seal, jam-packed with girls her age.
