If you grew up in the 80s, you know—malls were more than shopping. They were kingdoms. You didn’t just go to the mall; you got ready for it. The outfit had to be right—cuffed jeans, clean white laces, hairsprayed so high Aqua Net became a weather pattern.

It smelled like every Friday night should: nacho cheese, grape slushies,and a hint of spray cleaner that never quite caught up with the shoes.The carpet was that wild galaxy print—neon stars swirling under blacklights—andthe DJ booth perched above the floor like a spaceship command center.

It was supposed to be just another summer night game of hide-and-seek at my aunt’s place. Kids laughing, music drifting from the porch, the bug zapper buzzing like it always did in the background. But when I picked the old outhouse as my hiding spot, I found something waiting for me inside.

A hand.
Warm. Rough. Hairy.
And it grabbed back.

What followed was a desperate run through the woods, footsteps pounding behind me, breath hot on my neck. Even when I reached the safety of the yard lights, the fear didn’t stop—it spread. My cousins saw it in my face, heard it in my voice. That night changed the way I saw the dark forever.

In this episode of Streetlight Chronicles, I take you back to that moment in the 80s where childhood games turned into something much scarier. Was it a prank, a creature, or something else entirely? One thing’s for sure: I never hid in the outhouse again.