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[TheMightyFavog]

I'm working on a location profile for my feature writing class that's due later this afternoon. Here's what I got so far, what do you think of it?


I worked my way through the Crowded Kohl’s, past racks of men’s casual wear, shelves of items such as electric window scrapers, hand crank radios, and designer hip flasks, all labeled as “The perfect gift.” As I made my way past the checkouts and into the Bay Park Square Shopping Mall, I unhooked my Cell Phone from its holster on my belt and flicked it open with my thumb and a slight flick of the wrist. The blue tinted display screen gave me a grim message. One bar left in the battery indicator. I needed to recharge my phone soon or my link to the rest of the world would be dead. Or, at least until I got back to my dorm room the next day, where I had foolishly left my charger when I left for my parent’s house three days ago.
My cell is an older model flip phone, a Motorola v171, which I had acquired through an el cheapo pay-as-you go company. I had received this one from the company as a free upgrade after my previous phone, a Motorola c139 that my Mom bought for me in August during back-to-school shopping, died on me one Friday Afternoon in October. I decided to go to the ShopKo, where my mom had purchased my original phone.
“ShopKo’s got to have the charger I’m looking for. Hell, I could have sworn I saw phones like mine just like hanging on the racks when I was with my Mom doing back-to-school shopping,” I thought to myself as I worked my way through the mass of people gathered to take advantage of the Thanksgiving weekend bargains, past kiosks selling everything from T-shirts to gold chains, to designer sunglasses, and, of course, cell phones.
I made my way past the central court, with its many pushcarts, all staffed by enthusiastic vendors demonstrating their wares to passers-by. In the middle of the ring of carts, was a carpeted area populated with comfortable chairs and couches occupied by weary-looking men, no doubt having been “volunteered” by their significant others as pack mules for the annual Christmas shopping. I made a quick glance down the three other corridors, looking for the glimpse of the Red, White and Blue ShopKo logo at the end. I had not been back to Bay Park Square since August, and was unsure of which way to go. However, a fast look down the corridor was all that I needed to locate my destination. I started down the right corridor, confident that I would find what I was looking for and have some money left over, too boot.
The first thing that I noticed as I entered ShopKo was the lighting. It was bright. I winced like a kid coming into the sunlight after an afternoon at the movies. I quickly reached into my left pants pocket and pulled out the case for my sunglasses, and hastily put them on. I walked past racks of Packer apparel, dark-colored sweaters, and bins of cheap DVDs towards the electronics department with its prominent displays for the latest video game systems, and brand new widescreen TVs.
I quickly made my way to the cell phone accessories. They seemed to have car chargers for pretty well much every phone out there, except for mine. I asked a salesperson, and he suggested the nearby Radio Shack.
I left ShopKo, confident that Radio Shack had what I was looking for. After all, wasn’t their slogan “You have questions, We have Answers?” I thought to myself as I passed a medical-themed play area full of screeching kids.
Inside Radio Shack I waited. I waited for at least ten minutes as the salespeople engrossed themselves in their spiel, trying to sell others colorful radio controlled cars, digital video recorders, and high-definition television sets. I patiently waited, perusing the new cell phones until the store manager, a balding man in his mid forties asked me if I was looking for anything in particular. I told him I needed a car charger for my cell phone. He had a solution. One that involved a number of adapters that cost about forty dollars when all was said and done. That was way too much. I only had thirty to spend. I quickly told him I’d think it over and left the store. “That’s Radio Shack for you” I thought to myself. “You’ve got questions, they’ve got answers, and they cost too damn much.”
I walked down the crowded mall towards one of the cell phone kiosks, I passed by two ridiculous looking security guards who looked like they couldn’t have been out of high school yet. Their Smokey the Bear hats made them look like thing out of a junior state trooper brigade.
I approached the Verizon kiosk, and immediately a young college aged man in a button-up shirt asks me if I can help him. I relate my situation to him, he tells me that they don’t have the charger I’m looking for. Failure again.
I proceed on to the bustling center court of the mall, past pushcarts selling everything from knives and swords to customized CDs featuring songs by Elmo, Barney, the VeggieTales, and the Wiggles. As I pass this particular kiosk, I wonder how the woman working here can stand being exposed to that kind of music all day without running over to the sword kiosk grabbing the nearest convenient katana, and committing hara-kiri right there in the middle of the central court.
Spying another kiosk selling cell phones down one of the other corridors leading off from the busy central court, I immediately make a beeline for it, passing a pushcart selling aromatherapy wraps. I suddenly feel a warm sensation and a weight over my shoulders. The sweet smell of cinnamon immediately fills my nostrils. I hear a female voice behind me in a very thick, unidentifiable accent immediately attempt to sell me one of these colorful wraps. I had to politely decline. Despite the fact that the heat and smell felt good and was relaxing, I was a man on a mission, and I couldn’t be stopped now.
I inquired at every cell phone kiosk in the mall, each staffed with clean cut young men in button up shirts, many of them sporting the latest bluetooth Borg headsets on their ears. I get the same thing at each kiosk, either “I’m sorry we don’t have those in stock” or “Have you considerd switching you cellular service provider?”

[KurtNYC]

1. A few things

no intial cap on "Crowded", "Cell Phone", "Red, White and Blue"

you overuse the phrase "made my way"

Perhaps it could be even more driven by the quest -- you could use the dying battery bar as a kind of countdown toward oblivion. Insert a couple phrases where you look at your phone again and the bars fade away. Creating more urgency.

Make even more of "you are the everyman just trying to get that one item among a blitz of marketing and shoppers." Don't be afraid to go a little over the top for humorous effect. You could also write more about what the connectivity of the phone means to you by being specific about what will happen if it dies.

In general, eliminate unneeded capitalizations and in re-writing look at every verb and see if there is a stronger one that would improve what you have. And one of my favorite tricks for writing is to re-read a little bit of something you like that is written in a voice that will work well for what you are about to write. In other words, I would read a passage from "The Great Gatsby" before writing something about commercialism and decadence. The strength and all the things you like in someone else's writing can be echoed in your own.

And your story reminds me that I bought a phone recently for $20 and it came with a charger (it is a Vox 8610). I thought at the time that I should probably buy a second phone just to get an extra charger for $20.

[TheMightyFavog]

2. The last two paragraphs...

I had visited every cell phone shop in the mall. No dice. Not even the pushcart that sold cell phone accessories was able to help me. I flopped down in one of the chairs in the central court, an A&W root beer in my hand and a look of failure on my face. I had wandered this God-forsaken mall for an hour and a half, searching for a charger, all the while navigating the masses of people, putting up with the brain-piercing screams of kids throwing terrible temper tantrums, the incessant joyful strains of Christmas music, and the constant high pressure pitches of the Bluetooth Borgs. My quest was at an end, and my will was shattered. I sunk lower in the comfy loveseat to wait for my Mom and my sister to meet up with me as I took one last pull off my root beer.
As I turned to throw the cup away, one of the pushcarts caught my eye. The vendor, a slender, olive skinned man was selling olivewood woodcarvings from Bethlehem. Amongst the nativity scenes, crosses, and plaques with inspirational messages, something caught my eye . It was a foot and a half tall statue of the Virgin Mary. The coloring of the grain on her face made it look like she was shedding a tear. “I take it you’re not enjoying yourself, either,” I remark.