Morning Adventure/Entertainment/Necessity

We went food shopping yesterday. Usually that’s not such a big deal, but these days, it was a major production. We could have held out a little longer, but we were running out of some staples like bread and mayonnaise. We found ourselves with some unexpectedly free time, so we decided to make a run for it.

Our first choice was Trader Joe’s or Shaw’s. The natural food boutique or the big supermarket? We decided on Trader Joe’s because they stock a number of the frozen entrees that we rely on when we want something quick and simple. These items are the descendent of frozen TV dinners of the fifties that used to come in aluminum trays that carefully divided the peas from the mashed potatoes. I know this for sure because we often end up eating them in front of the TV—sitting side-by-side on the couch, watching one of our favorite shows on Netflix or Hulu or Prime.

Then we got our gear together – a scarf and a bandana for improvised face masks, disposable plastic gloves and no bags since the reusable bags that we have so carefully trained ourselves to use are no longer usable. (After we returned from the store, we got two lovely homemade face masks in the mail from a dear friend and then four more disposable face masks from another friend in our community.)

We also chose Trader Joe’s because we had heard they were careful about only letting a certain number of people in the store at one time to enhance the possibility of maintaining a six-foot distance while shopping. Sure enough, when we arrived there at 9:15 there was a line of people waiting to get in. And it was a correctly social distanced line that extended around the side of the building – marked with lines of tape every six feet.

We put up our scarves, donned our gloves and dutifully went to the back of the line. Waiting in line was kind of exciting. It brought back airport memories—as if we were waiting in line to go somewhere amazing. As we got closer to the front of the line we could see people shopping and checking out in the store. We realized we were going someplace amazing!

A place where they have all manner of delicious food on the shelves—where you put whatever you want into a large rolling container and then get to take it home with you. They even check every item on their scanner and put it all in double brown paper bags for you. The only thing they ask for in return is a particular kind of plastic card they want for a moment, but other than that, they just give you the stuff.

Shopping itself was, however, a little harrowing for me. Though the shelves were filled to the brim, I was uneasy. How do I make sure we get enough so we don’t have to return and expose ourselves again for several weeks? I did my best not to adjust the handkerchief I had worn over my nose and mouth but it was nearly impossible. I tried to stay away from other shoppers. Many were wearing mask, but some were not. Though there were just twenty-five shoppers in the store and perhaps fifteen workers, odds were good that at least one of us already had the corona virus and didn’t yet know it. In fact, I would guess that at least several, perhaps a dozen or more of us were already carrying this virus that has turned our daily routines upside down. How to stay safe from this invisible danger?

I was happy when we wheeled our loaded shopping cart up to the cashier, then waited behind the taped line as she unloaded, scanned and bagged our carefully chosen haul. We then wheeled the bags out in two shopping carts and returned to the safe confines of our home. We wiped most things down as we unpacked and left the bags themselves to self-sanitize overnight.

I am grateful to the farmers and the pickers and the truck drivers and the store workers who continue to do their jobs—who continue to expose themselves to viral risk every day. These usually unseen friends support our health and our lives. They are the foundation of all we do. May they all be safe and protected through this time of danger.