Eating alone doesn't have to be a shameful thing. Enter the Saint Louis Galleria, walk past the past the food court and endless sunglasses kiosks, and go, my child, to Auntie Anne's Pretzels. It doesn't matter what kind of pretzel you order; the outer surface will be crispy, suffused with a butter whose flavor hits with a kind of lab-tested narcotic efficiency — a straight upper to the pretzel receptors of the brain. Conveniently, an Auntie Anne's pretzel is portable and edible one-handed, particularly in the case of the menu's most beguilingly delicious item, the pretzel dog. With pretzel firmly clutched, go people-watch till your heart's content. Think of yourself as an anthropologist trying to understand this consumerist paradise. Nibble the buttery/spicy/cinnamonny/hot-doggy morsels of your Auntie Anne's pretzel as you pass American Eagle, and take time to consider meaningful life questions like: "What kind of people shop at American Eagle?" or "Can I justify buying an R/C helicopter?" or "Why are these pretzel dogs so damn good?"
Subscribe now to get the latest news delivered right to your inbox.