Adventure

The other day one of my favorite pen-pals sent me a homemade mask: hot pink with polka dots. She said she made it neon bright on purpose, so my neighbor would be sure to spot me leaving the house.

The mask came in handy though, because the no-sew ones go shooting off my face like a sling shot. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, now I spend an inordinate amount of time wondering if my ears are deformed.

My husband and I went out yesterday because he ran out of cough drops and I ran out of dishwasher detergent. As he drove, we noticed there were more cars on the road than usual. We pulled into the Walmart parking lot and drove right out again; the line was down the length of the store. We drove to the other Walmart; same thing. I said, “Today is day 30. Maybe everybody is celebrating.”

We drove to ShopRite. It was fairly quiet. I picked up a few things, but no dish detergent. The entire aisle was empty. I was beginning to panic. Hand-wash dishes? How much does God think I can bear?

We drove to Walgreens. This time my husband went in. He is particular about his cough drop choice and doesn’t trust me. He wore a mask that I sewed, and if you think my cooking skills are subpar, you should see me with a sewing machine.  It took me three hours of swearing to make it. I used the only fabric I had: a pattern of stylized lemons. He looked ridiculous—like a kitchen towel turned bank-robber. He bought cough drops and a fifteen pack of dish-detergent pods, which I normally don’t use and don’t like, but that was all they had. I was reminded of what I wrote a month ago about being picky, substituting millet for rice.

At Walgreens, my husband witnessed an almost-fist-fight. Two men got into it over a social-distancing breach. A masked man accused a barefaced man of getting too close. The bare man pointed to the mark on the floor and said, “It’s six feet. Shut up.” The masked man yelled, “You are too close!” The bare man said, “You wanna go?” and took a step over the X. The Walgreens cashier, a nice lady, said, “Hey! Not in my store! You want to fight, take it outside!” One of them called the other an asshole. I was reminded of “Asshole in the morning/Assholes all day.” But after thirty days of stress, people are maybe not their best selves. 

We got drive-thru iced coffee, then we went home. All told, less than two hours out of the house and it was completely exhausting and barely worth it.