i didn’t even make up those skyway facts!

Those of you not from these parts are probably unfamiliar with skyways. I shall attempt to explain.

Picture yourself in a mall. Not just any mall, but a mall that’s 90% food court. A mostly-food-court mall that’s not spacious, but more of a tunnel lined with shops and mysterious doorways. A mostly-food-court narrow-tube mall that spans eighty blocks, from which you can sometimes see outside, but cannot easily get to it. An eight-mile mostly-food-court narrow-tube mall that smells like school-lunch pizza and Subway, and is packed full of businessmen in cheap suits with cellphones grafted to their skulls, talking about action items.

So you see, the Minneapolis skyway is easily one of the most soulless places on earth.

I made my last truffle delivery today, to 800 LaSalle. I worked in the building for six years, as it houses the State Theatre. While I’ve been to Rock Bottom in recent months (the restaurant, not the state-of-being), I haven’t been in the skyway in the hinterland behind Dayton’sMarshall Field’s Macy’s since the time I worked there.

It took me far too long to get there, since my main goal was to take a break from work, not race for lunch. This meant that while I still passed 95% of the people in the skyway, I did so without shoving, elbowing, or trampling. It was considerate, but unsatisfying. I have no idea why people take to the skyways just to get their leisurely stroll on, when they could expend even less energy just staying at their desks; this would also offer the added benefit of Minesweeper. I may never understand.

It was strange to revisit my old building. Of all things, I remembered the carpet well, probably because the pattern is ‘muted midwestern casino’. I was glad to see that Le Cache and Cookies & More! were still there, but Park Cafe was gone, and almost everything in the adjacent building had been replaced with the identical store under different ownership.

On the way back to work, I passed a group of girls just as one said, “Drop that zero and get with the hero!” I wanted to yell something at them about schlinging a schlong, but I have class. Also, I passed a guy playing a guitar for change in the US Bank skyway, and his song was just ‘Michelle Barton’ repeated over and over. The tune sounded very familiar, but I couldn’t distinguish it until the last line. Here, I typed it up just for you:

Michelle Barton, Michelle Barton.
Michelle Barton, Michelle Barton.
Michelle Barton, Michelle Barton!
Oh, Canada.

You’re welcome.
Jenni