By Marie Mendoza
Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights.
Shirts, bags, and shoes strewn about the floor in complete and utter organized chaos
I love all of it.
the way mami’s tender hands would meticulously analyze every piece of clothing
Even the questionable food that perhaps shouldn't be stored in a clothing/homegoods/literally- anything-you-could-ever-need store.
Marshalls… now, that’s me and mami’s spot.
When I was younger, Mami’s “Vamos” sounded almost like symphony.
I knew what it entailed, a one way direct ticket to consumer paradise.
Never any money for high-end brands, but at least there was our spot.
cause when you’re a kid who’s been ragged on for their Payless shoes one too many times, anything will seem holy.
you see, mami and I have a finely honed system,
brag over the deals we found, lament over the items that were just too expensive, and of course, offer the other unsolicited advice on what they should buy
In that order.
Now 787 painfully long miles divide us,
the memories of car rides along the highway with loud vallenatos playing in the background seem obsolete.
But every once in a while, I call up mami and ask “vamos?”