Yesterday I briefly left the abode to take care of some business in town. Essential business, it was, that of posting some important letters and afterwards acquiring not food but the ingredients to bake with which I had fallen short of. It had been days since I had gone out and I was going a bit stir crazy so it was with relief and curiosity at the sights I might witness that I set forth.
There seemed to be the same level of traffic on my little road as was usual in the days before the crisis but as it was the noon hour I thought that these must be fellow citizens rousted, as I was, from their homes by necessity or they were essential workers going about the commutes necessary to complete their tasks.
Upon reaching the little town nearby I noticed that some of the non-essential businesses had removed their inventories. Instead of items for sale in their windows there were only empty shelves and beyond that the vacant, dark look that meets the eyes upon peering further within. Perhaps this was early evidence of a coming blight, thought I, and I took note of the timing. It hadn't taken long.
The local restaurants were closed, as ordered, but most had signs posted out front indicating the hours they were offering take out.
The gas station was open, perhaps one of the only open businesses in town, and while it wasn't doing as brisk of business as was customary there were people pulling up and leaving just the same. How many were braving the interior of the convenience store beyond the gas pumps I did not know and had not the time to look.
Soon at the post office and exiting my vehicle, I took note of how many people were inside. There was only one customer, which in my mind these days is very, very good. I entered, and needing my letters to be placed on the scale so they would receive the correct postage, had to wait for the lone clerk to finish with the customer before I could complete my mission.
The customer was an elderly woman, wearing a mask, which I thought to be of wise precaution and though I was not wearing a mask, I felt she to be sufficiently protected from my un-masked self for me to not have to remove myself from her presence, as I was six feet or more away.
Just then, a woman of undetermined age entered the customer service area of the post office, which is a closed off area, surrounded by glass, approximatley sixteen by twenty feet in size. She entered the area in a brusque manner and hastily began to grab some shipping boxes from a storage rack not three feet away from where I stood. To her uncharacteristic haste I took note but further the more her appearance was of such strangeness that I was momentarily taken aback, as she appeared to have just come off the set of Lawrence Of Arabia. Around her face was wrapped a large swath of grayish cloth, which being so long as to be of necessity contained, was wrapped in completeness around her neck. Upon her head she wore a hat, and both her hands were held snugly within blue surgical gloves. She removed herself from the office the moment she could grasp the boxes tightly enough to keep them from falling from her hands, as if to imply the air within the office contained the most extreme toxicity and she had placed herself at highest risk by sallying forth within.
Shortly after her exit, the woman at the counter wrapped up her business and left, but not soon enough, for I had been tapping my toes a bit and anxiously looking out the office's windows to see if another customer was coming. None were, and I found myself relieved.
I, and the woman behind the counter, similarly un-masked, now set upon taking care of my transaction. The postal agent rushed through the simple process and had in her demeanor that I, un-masked, was of greater threat than the two women who had just been in her presence. To this affront I remained unruffled for I detected in her an uncharacteristic attitude of curtness, an attitude which at the root of it denoted some fear she held in that she was exposing herself to a greater danger than before, one that had wafted in with me or was about me. I didn't want to be in the office either, in the company of this potentially exposed clerk, but the nature of my business was that time was of the essence considering the posting of my letters. Awkward, rushed, and strained was our interaction, not the casual and neighborly one that had been the usual at this establishment.
OMG…….
Andreas Dress- Unsplash.com
Exiting, my major business of the day concluded, I could have driven home but my neglected car needed to be driven so I took aim for a grocery store a few miles distant to procure some minor baking supplies. This mission was optional but I figured a quick in and out, a decisive strike at the objects in question, was acceptable. I knew upon which shelves these items lay and would only have to weather the express check out line for a minute or so, so few would be my purchases.
Road construction was taking place a quarter of a mile down the road, and I was stopped upon nearing it by a bored flagger. I had noticed not long after lockdown that road construction had ramped up island-wide. This was The County's opening to do necessary repair work with the least bit of disruption, an action I fully supported, yet I was dismayed to be delayed just the same. I watched in my mirrors as a long line of cars built up behind me.
Finally getting the signal to go I enjoyed the simple freedom of just driving to the grocery store and soon arrived, after passing a higher degree than normal of citizens walking, bicycling, and jogging along the way. I noticed many faces I had never seen before, and marveled at the thought that there lay in my town and the ones near to it so many people living there I did not recognize, though I must have surely driven past and amongst these people innumerable times.
At the store the public was acting in a manner similar to the one they had exhibited at the post office. People were social distancing, wearing masks, and nervously waiting in line though a few, mostly young adults and children, were acting in a careefree fashion. In addition, I noted that more people were wearing masks than had been wearing them a week ago. I opted to widely circle around a duo rather than walk near them as I was entering the store, preferring to keep ample distance, and did similar manuveurings as I proceeded. Dismayed I was upon reaching my objective, the shelf upon where baking ingredients lay. This shelf, like the ones in other stores I had visited, was nearly bare. The ingredients I sought were not to be found.
Bailing from the store as quickly as I had entered, I got in my car and left the lot. After driving but a half mile away I passed a beautiful public park. It was a fair weather day, a pristine day, an absolutely perfect day in which to take a walk but the gates to the park were locked. Only a few weeks ago people had been living in utter abandon, compared to the times at hand, and I was yet again shocked at how quickly things had changed.
Driving home, nothing further to do, I was stopped for a second time by that same construction area, it lying between me and my abode. While stopped, the fellow in the pickup in front of me repeatedly blew puffs of acrid cigarette smoke out his window, wisps or more of it wafting my way. "Even in traffic I am not free from other's exhalations!" muttered I. I had the windows rolled down, as is my custom. "Must I now keep them rolled up?!". The prospect seemed abomidable. Then, upon reflection, I mused "Air being air, it will get in regardless".
The normal, familiar, everyday life we've always known has abruptly changed The World over the last few weeks and the million dollar question now before us is "Will life ever be the same?". The answer to that will come when it comes but for now I've seen enough of a disease, government, and media-traumatized society to think that staying home might just be a splendid idea and to that notion, I'm in agreement. I've got supplies, the internet, and plenty of projects to do. Updates on the exterior world will come when supplies run low...
...essential business calls...
...or I go on a long, long drive with my windows rolled down and air, glorious air, is again my friend.