On Baghdad Mall

With a mental plan having fallen through I drove to Mecca Mall last Thursday night frantically in search of a last minute graduation gift. This is after having not been there for almost two years. Mecca Mall is locally and somewhat jokingly nicknamed “Baghdad Mall”…

…On a Thursday night I discovered exactly why that is.

Ordinarily one might say “I’ve never seen so many Iraqis in my life” but I’m inclined to say “I’ve never seen so few Jordanians in Jordan, in my life”.

That being said I’ve always hated Mecca Mall simply because it’s the only place in the world that actually makes me feel claustrophobic. I would rather be stuck in an elevator. And having to walk through that thick cloudy veneer of cigarette smoke I would assume there’d be more fresh air inside that elevator.


What the heck is with teenagers these days? Why does every guy either have spiky hair or looks like they can’t afford a haircut; not to mention dress like Ricky Martin? What is this, 1987?

And why does every 13 year old girl wear clothes that are 5 sizes too small and enough make up to pass as a French mime?

Ten minutes after I entered I was frantically searching for an escape hatch.


Your Two Piasters: