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Confessions Of A Curbside Weenie

My local health food store stopped curbside pickup on November 30th and I sure miss emailing my order in on Thursday and picking up my food on Friday. Are things really getting “back to normal” or is it just politically untenable to continue restrictions?

I don’t want to go in there wearing a mask because they would think I was a mask weenie, and I am, so why am I so hesitant to show who I really am? Still a very cautious person, I just don’t want the annoyance and discomfort of getting covid, so am not taking any chances, though I have been going into the post office unmasked when there’s no one in there, and the hardware store as well. (The way this small town is going it seems pretty safe inside: there’s few customers!)

What to do? I invented some excuses to go to out of town and shopped at some big health food stores wearing a mask, no one knew me there, and I stocked up, bought two weeks worth of food, and damned the possible spoilage, this was a matter of life or death!

Now the two weeks are up and I’m out of veggies, which is the most important meal of the day, right?

Jenny was my food girl for over two years, the woman “in my life,” and the sweet, upbeat voice on my answering machine. She was conscientious and communicative about my order and when she stopped doing Fridays said I could change to Thursday to still have her, but I decided to be adventurous and switched to a new shopper. 

The new person, and I have no idea who it was, got seven things wrong with my order, granted they were just small mistakes like five avocados instead of four and three purple beets instead of one purple and two orange, but it was kind of annoying and I ran back to Jenny: she could count and she gave a shit.

The time has come! I need those veggies, it’s a matter of life and death in a different way now, that cure-all broccoli! No veggies equals death, well at least premature?

 (Why do we care what people think about us? It usually comes down to sex, right? They’ll see me still wearing a mask and think, “Look at that scared guy, he probably wouldn’t be very adventurous in bed, make a note of that!”)

No, no one at this store is into me me, I don’t even know who’s there anymore, is Boomer still there with his hopeful jokes? Of course Marieta is there, she’s a fixture, they just wind her up three or four days a week and set her loose, right?

So here’s the plan: I’ve got my list ready and I’ll go up there when it opens to limit the chance of leftover covids floating in the air, less people to see me scurrying down the veggie aisle maniacally grasping the greenery in my eager paws, then a great sigh of relief driving away.

Who knows, maybe I’ll have a dance down the aisle with long-legged Marieta, 

I’m back, baby! (?)

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