We're not old, dammit! The waistline on these pants is just deceptively high. But consarn it, when we need to go to the shopateria to purchase batteries for our hearing aids, the last thing we want is to have to weave our way through knots of droopy-drawered hooligans milling about aimlessly. Aimlessly, that's right! They never buy anything, just stand there blabbing into their tiny phones and bellowing lewd things at the ladies. Believe it or not, some women don't want to know that their "Badonkadonk gotta lotta jonk," whatever the blazes that means. (But if it means that girl should pull her pants up and put on a sweater, we agree.) Anyhoo. Now that St. Louis Mills and the Saint Louis Galleria have instituted age limits on the weekend hours, all those fears have faded like the memories of what we had for lunch yesterday. After 3 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays, no one younger than sixteen is allowed into the Galleria unless they're accompanied by an adult and what fifteen-year-old wants to go to the mall with Dad? Now a Saturday-evening trip to the mall means nothing but quiet walking on those broad thoroughfares, and the only kids you see are fresh-faced, clean-cut young men and ladies, strolling along merrily with their parents or their grandparents, if you're lucky. Say, let's meet for milkshakes at Johnny Rockets and then look at cardigans.