We have all seen those poor desperate teenagers.  They walk the polished floors past the Footlocker, Abercrombie & Fitch, and Urban Outfitters, awkwardly making their way to the food court, breathing the conditioned air, and clinging along that friend who would give them a ride back home.  The private security guards surveil them, but at least Mom and Dad rest assured that they are safe, for they are not on the streets, not that there are any streets in any real sense in such an ex-urban existence.  Outside the building, acres of parking lot and miles of sidewalk-deficient roads separate this mall from other lesser strip malls, gas stations, golf courses and Walmart.  Walking is inconceivable, and Mom and Dad appreciate this.  In fact, Mom and Dad consciously invested in a home in such a pedestrian-hostile habitat precisely because they were suspicious of sidewalks and people walking down them, not to mention buses and bus riders.  School, football practice, home, and any other place to which Mom decides to chauffeur them in their Exxon-Valdez-sized vehicle are really, in her view, the only places safe and healthy enough for the kids.