Is anyone else eating a week’s worth of snacks in one day? If not, me neither…
One day normal life is the best thing since sliced bread, the next day it’s toast. Thanks to quarantine, completing the weekly one member per household grocery haul means your sorry ass volunteered as tribute.
The store decor is early apocalypse; the milieu grim with a slight vibe of terror. Hard to describe the scent because I don’t breathe while I’m there. What’s that, a sneeze… everybody freeze. Spring’s got us guessing – pollen or plague?
After an eternity of wandering one way traffic aisles, recalibrating my list to bypass empty shelves, I throw items in my cart I don’t and won’t need. Dried, shriveled staples are now the new black.
The cashier’s smile is wobbly behind the plexiglass Hero Shield. Her weary eyes scream ‘overworked and under intoxicated.’ Now that I have mastered those red arrows on the floor I don’t dare move anywhere else.
I patiently wait two meters behind a shopper deeply contemplating frozen corn when some fucker swoops past me and dives into the cooler. I scurry away – my mantra deafening now, “Just follow the arrows and DON’T TOUCH YOUR FACE.”
I get home and sani-wipe my purchases. A can of lentils, three limp carrots, a large bottle of Worcestershire and a carton of eggs – seven of them intact. In an effort to find light in the lentil things, vegetarian meatloaf it is!
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