Sock Dust

You know, I was going to avoid the whole covid19 talk altogether, but I decided not to.  At least not until I get done unwinding in this space for a bit.

I was at Aldis yesterday where a guy was employed strictly to wipe down carts and meter people in and out of the store to keep a constant of 40.  I made the erroneous assumption that I would somehow find the cart handle cleaner than normal.  I do not know what that sticky stuff was, but it wasn't sani-wipe residue.  Not being a complete germophobe, I just shuddered and then rolled with it.  The cart corral guy seemed like an upstanding sort.  I am sure whatever he missed was unintentional. (I was especially mindful to keep my hands from my face for the duration of my trip, though.)

I was reminded at regular six foot intervals to maintain proper social distancing from the people in front of me.  I left it to the people in back of me to hold up their end of the stick.  A few times I am pretty sure fellow customers encroached on one another's space with the solemn vow to not breathe for the brief moment of shared air as we all reached past one another for crackers and ketchup.

The older lady around the corner had to be frustrated with the faulty rubber bands she used in the assembly of the make-it-take-it mask she saw on Facebook.  I would've been disappointed if I were her.  It had to be so unhandy to shop for groceries while keeping her mask held up with the other hand.  She must've been ambidextrous because she seemed to be able to switch hands with relative ease.

The lady with the tidy fitting mask may have been a medical professional.  At least hers looked like it came out of a hospital supply closet.  Her gloved hands were a nice touch.   If coronavirus germs are somehow proven to absorb through hand skin, so many people will be glad they had worn them.

I was camped out on one of the social distance floor lines waiting for a register to open when I was asked by a fellow customer if I was waiting in line.  I'll admit, it didn't look like it, but the next social distance line would've put me in an awkward parking spot in the middle of cross-aisle traffic.  She shared sympathetic words that it did look a little confusing.

The lady across the way from us, in another line, had her chin cupped in her hand while she leaned on the cart handle, stroking her lower lip with her fingers.

I plucked my credit card from the machine and bid good day to the plexiglass enshrouded cashier.  I wasted no time rolling my cart of loose groceries straight out the door.  As I exited, another person entered, all in perfect rhythm.  At my car, I tossed everything into the milk crates I had lined up on the backseat, all the while wondering if my groceries were crawling with little invisible covid19 bugs.

I noticed a fellow traveler on my trek home looking like a wayward kite had crashed into his face.  He was keeping his vehicle on the road, so he must've been able to see.

Facebook is chock-full of ideas to stay safe.  Some of them should come with warning labels.  Like the face mask made from cut up socks.  This has me wondering how much raw sock dust the human lung can withstand.

I am not foolhardy to think I am somehow exempt from any of the calamities that befall other random people.  I could be the next Wayne County covid19 death for all I know (though, one would need to conclude you can go from completely asymptomatic to death in an impossibly quick sequence if it happens any time soon).  I was born with a weird ability to see situations from a birds-eye-view.  Even serious things can wind up looking inappropriately funny to people like me.  So I find myself watching the many interpretations of "safety protocol" in today's strange, new world and finding myself both appalled and amused.

Until next time....
~Colleen