One thing becomes clear when you live a sequestered
pandemic life—your world is smaller than you thought. For almost 2 months, 3 of
us have been living primarily in 6 rooms, plus a few closets. Do the math. And we haven’t
been breaking out very often. Most of our ventures and even “cocktail parties”
have been via keyboard and screen. And we are often one of many talking heads
enclosed in small rectangles via Zoom.
Today, I made the break. Tess and I snuck off for a short ride to the pet supply store and to CVS. I had ordered ahead for my pet
supplies, and they were brought out to the car, where Tess guarded them closely But I actually went inside CVS.
It was a little weird. Masked bandits trying not to pass by each other and sneaking
from row to row to get a clear path to the checkout counter.
That’s where today’s big surprise was hiding in plain
sight. As I reached the first of several spaced-out taped lines on the floor
leading up to the cash register, I spotted a small sign. “Ýes, we have masks.
$1.99. Limit of 1 to a customer.” Masks,
the pass key to leaving home. But it is a pretty limited pass key. Get 1 today
and a second on another day. Sort of like purchasing packets of yeast at a
grocery store these days.
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| A precious mask purchased at CVS |
Now, we do already have masks—one to a person in our
pandemic household. We ordered them from Amanda’s work colleague, whose sewing
machine has been pretty busy lately. And we have had paper masks on order from
Amazon for a few weeks. But the backlog is long, and the mail time is almost as
long.
I have passed the new CVS mask onto Audrey, and she is
thrilled. It seems that her cloth mask has made her aware for the first time
that there is very little space between her nose and her eyes. “My face is
smaller than I realized,” she noted recently. When she pulls the mask up high
enough to cover her nose as well as her mouth, her eyes are partially covered
too. It’s a dilemma, and makes shopping harder too.
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| Audrey's "eye-catching" and "eye-blocking" mask. |
My world is clearly smaller than I thought.
Jill and I did a masked supermarket venture this morning. We are using cloth bandanas since we do not have masks for sale on Long Island.
ReplyDeleteMy mask is an all black bandana. I remarked to Jill that "I look like the Durango Kid." I can make bets that no one else in the store would remember who the Durango Kid was. He was a B movie western character in a series of movies in the late 40's early 50's. Jill spent the remainder of our shopping trip reminding me of how much of a difference there is in our ages. So, next week the Durango Kid will ride again. Off to the veggie aisle.
Sorry I waited so long to reply. Your story made me laugh. Admittedly, I don't remember the Durango Kid, but the Cisco Kid and Pancho are fresh in my memory. Hope you and Jill are doing well on LI. Things are opening up around here, and I even have an appointment set for a haircut next week. I don't have hair on most of my scalp, but what I do have needs trimming badly.
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