Mall Noise

Trying to while away the time, I sat on the sofa and shut my eyes.
The place? Riccarton Mall, just outside Pak'n'Save.
For about ten minutes I opened my ears and this is what I heard:
Footsteps, footsteps a-plenty... the scuffles of jandles and flipflops (+/- socks) their wearers ardently defying the chill of Winter's eve. Slipper clad customers likewise. Sneakers sneaking. Loafers loafing. Stilettos on a mission. A horse and rider. Well, ok, no horse, but a fair few cowgirls clomping around in the latest trend.
A velcro bag wrenched open.
The entrance barrier gate clangging shut.
Metalic juddering as a trolley embarks it's next journey.
The endless flurry of beeps from the checkouts as the next item is scanned.
A querulous child.
The shuddering of vinyl as someone takes his place on the sofa.
And barely perceptible clicks as he contacts the outside world.
Rhythmic rattling as a trolley rolls past.
Polite chatter of the girl behind the lottery counter.
Followed by scratching, but no jubilent exclamations.
Coins clatter and fall., then "Home on the range" plays as a child rides alongside the 101st dalmation.
Jangling car keys.
Rustling plastic bags.
My own throat gurggling.
The cyclic slick-slicking of rubber trolley wheels rolling by.
A child giggling.
Cash-vending machines periodically divulging their contents.
A few nonchalent claps.
The intruding clatter of yet another hastily discarded trolley.
All to the 'background' music of some geriatric crooning "September Mornings" and "Call Me Loyal"
But most of all, the incessent crashing of the trolleys.

Incidentally, the guy on the cell phone, well, he left it behind on the sofa and I, well, of course I didn't notice it til I snapped out of my reverie. I did the right thing, though, and handed it in.