Dizzy in Dizengoff
Brought to you by the letter 'P'
Dizengoff back when she was young
I'm fifteen minutes at a brisk walk from the first major mall in Tel Aviv, Dizengoff Centre. It's a substantial structure, spanning both sides of a busy street, with winding levels that circle back onto themselves, and cross-over bridges between the two sides. I was there to return some purchases from the previous month. But I couldn't remember exactly where the store was located. It took half an hour of wandering around the multiple floors, until I discovered, much to my chagrin, the store had just closed.
When the Dizengoff mall was first built, it was considered striking and modern. Now it's showing its age; like a woman past her prime, putting on a little too much make-up and still wearing the same outfits she had years ago. The stores tend towards the kitschy, and generally are poorly laid out-- in part due to the theoretically innovative, but in practice annoying architectural decision of having the floor curve around the entire structure.
It does, however, provide excellent opportunities for people-watching, which seems to be what locals like about the mall, too.
On this particular trip, I took note of empirical evidence that some Israelis need a wee more cultural fine-tuning in the the sphere of public manners. As the mall was closing, on my way to leave, I was passed by a man strolling with a little dog on a leash. Now, I've seen people bringing their pets into stores before-- but walking one in a mall just seems like asking for trouble. And sure enough, moments later, the dog sashayed up to the corner of a now-deserted information counter and made sure everyone knew that this desk was his.
That's probably not what the owner intended. But he didn't try to stop his dog, nor did he look particularly concerned that it had just taken a leak on the furniture. He just glanced down, then walked on, as though nothing had happened.
Being raised in the polite and moderately civilized middle of America, when I see such things, I'm torn: should I try to say something to him, like, "How about I come over to your place and piss on the couch?" Would that make any difference? It doesn't take a whiz to figure out that your dog shouldn't be allowed to mark his territory indoors.
I could have taken one such urinary incident in stride, but as I approached the exits, I noticed a mother with her child, standing next to the raised planters just under the stairs. She had picked up her son, pulled down his pants and pointed him in the direction of the plants, upon which he proceeded to let out a stream of pee-pee.
Now I understand when nature calls in emergency situations, and there's no other option but to find a nearby tree, and see a man about a horse
But as it was, the restrooms were just down a hallway from where her child did his business. Did she think that urinating in public an appropriate lesson for the tyke? Was she at all embarrassed that people standing around were watching? Did anyone think to say, "Hey lady, this ain't Coney Island?"
I leave that assessment to you, gentle readers.
(For more public urination fun, see Seinfeld Episode #33. The Parking Garage)
