In Coronapocalypse, grocery shopping can only happen once school is done for the week. Luckily, Shea was done by Thursday morning, and Xander was…..well, close enough.
As I drove into Georgia, I began to wonder if this was a good life choice. Friday was the first day the state was beginning the reopening process. Would the grocery store be crazy, because the world was out living it up? Or would it be empty, because everyone was getting their roots touched up?
It seemed typical for Aldi, but as I walked to the door, the unfortunate employee who had to stand outside (this is the south, and it’s already hot) and clean every cart, informed me they had reached 50 shoppers, and would I please stand on the X. Absolutely! The next couple who walked up weren’t so impressed with rule-following–he asked them to please stand on the next X, as they were at “capacity,” and the couple continued to stand directly in the doorway. When another patron walked up, he once again explained that they were at capacity, and would they please stand on the next X. The response was, “how were we supposed to know that if you didn’t tell us.” I rolled my eyes hard, but then remembered I still had sunglasses on, so no one saw–probably for the best.
After a full 90 seconds of waiting, I was allowed to go inside. It looked just as overcrowded as the tiny Aldi always looks. I got a lot of nasty looks and rude comments: “that is a lot of food.” Well, I’m not leaving my house for 2 more weeks, so mind your beeswax! No…instead I would smile (which goes unseen under a mask), and would say, “you don’t realize how much extra food you’ll need for 2 kids and a husband at home all day every day!” Which is mostly a lie–my husband is not home any more than he was before. But my kids do eat nonstop. And also, mind your beeswax. I don’t hoard buy–I 2-week-supply buy.
Then I began to take notice of all that was going on around me. As a lifetime sufferer of ADD, I flip between being hyper focused and unobservant, to daydreamy and ultra-observant. Of all the women in the store, 1/4 of them were wearing either shower caps, or scrub caps. What. Is. Happening.
I feel like there are a number of public service announcements that need to be made. The newest seems to be: just because you see a nurse wearing something, that does not meant you will be safer by wearing it too. You don’t need gloves (eww), unless you plan on changing your gloves every time you touch something (honestly, if I thought about the number of gloves required to grocery shop without cross-contamination, I would need a whole box). Masks do you no good if you only wear them over your mouth (unless you have corks crammed up your nostrils, this is silly). And now, scrub caps are NOT SAVING YOU!!! What exactly do they think the purpose of the scrub cap is?? No Coronapocalypse fad has confused me this much.
On my drive home, I looked in my rearview mirror and noticed a man, alone in his car, wearing a mask. Oh my gosh, this has to stop. But wait! At the next light, I saw he had taken it off! Alas, perhaps he just forgot he was wearing it. He was also smoking a cigarette–whatever, you do you, buddy…until he finished his cigarette and put the mask back on. With smarts like that, you’re better of just staying home.
Also, I’ve been making contraband face masks. The SGM of the Army put out guidance, telling soldiers not to use uniforms to make masks (because they’re dipped in chemicals…great). This guidance came out after I had already made Justin 4 multi-cam masks, that he handed out to friends at work. And now, even though they are illegal (well, not illegal…just, not recommended), it’s what everyone wants. “But they’re not allowed.”
“He wants multi-cam.”
“But…they said…”
“He wants multi-cam.”
Great. So, when the shakedown happens, and these soldiers crack under pressure and give up their supplier, I’m going straight to Guantanamo Bay. Which I’m assuming is worse than prison. Which I’ve already established, is a place I couldn’t handle. I’m doomed.
