We are all wearing masks in the supermarket. Sometimes I’m not sure I’ll ever get use to this.
We, the masked people in the grocery store, behave a lot differently than normal shoppers used to. For example: Nobody is touching stuff on the shelves.
Remember when you used to go shopping and everyone would touch stuff? Yeah. Me too. It’s just what we did.
Young mothers would push buggies with their bare hands and inspect each label while Junior gummed up a wrapped Snickers bar.
But that doesn’t happen anymore.
I see a young woman pushing a cart. She is wearing latex gloves and a colorful mask. She is not inspecting labels, she is rushing through the store as though something is chasing her. Everyone is doing this. I don’t blame them. Nobody wants to be here.
Ever since this coronavirus hit, my wife and I have been flipping a coin to see who goes to the grocery store. If it’s heads, I go to the store. If it’s tails, we flip again.
And I’m still not used to
wearing my mask. I feel like an idiot. I wear an N95 drywall mask I used back when I used to hang sheetrock. I used to wear a mask like this all day. I didn’t mind it back then because the only other choice was a respirator with HEPA filters. Those big masks look like you’re wearing a Playtex 18-hour support bra on your face.
I remember lunch breaks when I would go out into the fresh air, rip off that drywall mask, and pull in one giant breath. It was pure rapture. You can’t imagine how good it felt to take a cleansing breath when you’d been wearing a glorified kneepad over your mouth all day.
What am I saying? Of course you can imagine what it feels like. You’re probably wearing one right now.
I know I am.