Today was the first day I ventured out under the new Connecticut state guidelines for going to the grocery store. This entailed the “suggestion” of wearing a mask in public. Well, I didn’t want to get “mask shamed” if I showed up without one, so my wife spent the better part of last night sewing a mask from old bandanas. She found a Youtube video and created a few prototypes. This author had a macabre sense of humor because the mask that she was touting literally would not stay on my head. Or my wife’s. Now my wife is pretty clever and knows her way around a sewing machine but this design was next to useless. I suggested a few elastic straps and voila, a mask that stays on your head. She also incorporated a layer of cotton batting in between the folds of the mask as well. Will that extra layer of protection work? Who knows but it sounds good.
So I get to the store, don my gloves and put my mask on. Great. Two months ago if I showed up looking like that at the store, I would have been promptly arrested and charged with attempted robbery, today I’m greeted with open arms. Well, not real open arms, more of the virtual kind. My, have times changed. To keep the flow of traffic going and encourage social distancing the aisles are now one way, with HUGE arrows on the floor directing the flow of traffic and signs everywhere telling you to keep at least six feet between you and the next person. Pretty easy to follow right? Wrong! Remember I’m going at six in the morning during old people hours and for some reason, the old people are not quite grasping this concept. More than likely it is because of the masks. Whereas the mask that my wife made looked pretty good on the surface, there were a few design flaws that I detected.
- I could barely breath. So maybe the other old masked people were oxygen starved and couldn’t figure out the signs or directions. and
- I couldn’t see. The mask I was wearing was fogging up my glasses. Most of the other people in my age bracket were wearing glasses and perhaps they were blinded as well.
So here we are, gasping for breath and unable to see, careening around the store trying to find food. It really was a sight to behold, providing that you could see. I had a list but because of my current state of limited vision and low oxygen, I’m pretty much stumbling from aisle to aisle just throwing stuff into my cart. Okay, there is a can of something, it resembles corn, it could be tomato paste, I’ll sort it out when I get home. This bag feels like coffee, maybe it’s dried pinto beans, so into the cart. This could be yogurt or perhaps it’s cottage cheese. Into the cart.
I was cruising down one aisle and stopped dead in the middle of the aisle was a guy on a scooter. He had a boot on his leg so I felt some pity, but that soon turned to anger and then rage when he picked something off the shelf and examined it for a minute or two then moved two feet forward picked something else off the shelf and took his sweet time contemplating that purchase. And again, and again. WTF, we were instructed that if we touch it, it’s ours! Finally we get to the end of the aisle and he turns right. I gleefully turn left and continue. Maybe his broken ankle has caused him diminished capacity or maybe, he is just a jerk. I think this is peanut butter, but maybe it’s mayonnaise. Sugar? Flour? Into the cart, I’ll figure it out when I get home.
Finally I’m done so it’s off to the check out. Aisle 9 is the designated aisle for waiting for a register to open. I cruise down the aisle with some lady whose is now tailgating me. I stop in the middle of the aisle to brake check her and she almost rear ends me. I turn around and scowl at her, but since the mask covered my face and my glasses were fogged up I’m not sure she got the message. Thankfully she somehow figured out my displeasure and retreats to a safe distance. The cashier motions me over, I check out, she tells me how many gas points I have, which doesn’t do me any good because gas could be free and I still have no where to go and nothing to do when I get there.
I leave the store, rip off the mask, and take the first full gulp of air that I’ve had in 45 minutes. Ah! My oxygen starved brain begins to function. My eye sight returns. I look at some of the items that I bought and wonder why the hell did I buy a bag of pinto beans? I finish loading the car and make my getaway.
Home! I think I’m in the clear, but my wife saw something on the news about decontaminating the food so I unload everything onto the counter and she starts wiping things down with homemade cleaners with such vigor that if I didn’t know better I would have thought that she was a former employee of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. I’m so stressed I throw my clothes in the hamper, put my sweats on and crawl back into bed. Grocery shopping has never been so stressful.
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