I ventured out yesterday playing the role of the delivery service for my mother. You know, since she had an emergency where she required orange juice, vodka and cream of wheat. Of course, because I don’t want to go out for a while, I got additional items since I know I would be getting a call two days from now, saying she was out of this and that.
The little outing just reminded me why I don’t like people. I went to a local store where navigating the aisles, so you don’t come in close proximity of people, is a challenge. I almost felt like it was a chess game. Anyway, this chick with her fashionable mask and latex gloves lingered in front of the case that I desperately needed. She lingered. And lingered. And lingered. Okay, you get the idea. She wouldn’t get the truck (insert an F, if so inclined), out of my way. I was maintaining my social distancing, but come on, did your mask and gloves hinder your decision making process? (Can I just say that those people walking around wearing those particular items piss me off? Are you pleased with yourself as you have taken those items away from medical personnel that are on the front lines? You are probably the ones hoarding toilet paper, too.) Sorry for the rant. I digress. So, right when I was about to say, “Excuse me”, I coughed. (Don’t worry. I coughed in my arm. I’m not an asshole.) Now I know how to make people move. She booked it down the aisle without even grabbing anything from the case. So much for using my manners.
I delivered the goods to my mother’s front porch as I am implementing the “no contact” policy since Brian is out in the world working. When I walked into the safety of my home, I exhaled. It was really peopley out there. Being quarantined obviously has not made me miss the human race.