Skip to main content

Herd behavior strikes



Monday, March 16 
Today was our first official day of mindfully staying isolated at home and it was very boring until 7 pm when Jack came over to "shop" from our pantry. The grocery stores were cleaned out, he said. Empty shelves.  No milk.  No meat except prime steak.

"So sad," I said. "Help yourself; we have plenty."
"And now that they're closing the liquor stores..." 
"!! The liquor stores!  Why would they do that?!" 
Don't know, he said, just look it up online, message from the governor, starting tomorrow.

I didn't look it up, jumped in the car and made like a bat out of hell for Total Wine.  We were running low in several categories and I'd been meaning to go. 

The store certainly looked like the last day.  Parking lot was packed, lots of people pushing full carts holding grimly to the cart handle with antibacterial tissues.  One guy was talking on his phone, coordinating with his wife at Costco to pick up items he couldn't find.  But it's a warehouse, for goodness sake.  Still plenty of liquor for all of us.

At the checkout I asked about a closing.  "Oh no," she said cheerfully.  "That's bars.  We'll be open."




Comments

  1. So does he have a mask? Maybe you need to sew one. Treadle Yardgoods on Grand were handing out kits for free last weekend.
    Kind of like - getting the womenfolk to do all they can for the union.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Good god - can you imagine closing the liquor stores. Brewster sent a picture of Thomas's Liquors and they were outside taking orders - and then someone would fetch it and bring it out to you. But the aisles in that place are super narrow - - it's not even 6 feet between 2 aisles.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Empty Mall of America

Here's a lifetime experience: an empty Mall of America. No cars in the ramps; echoing, empty space overlooking a few American Red Cross volunteers who manage the blood donors in the mall's north lobby. When we scheduled our donations, we were instructed to wear masks or we would be issued masks.  Volunteers guided me through the process:  show us your RapidPass reservation. Clean your hands. Now show us your donor card.  Oops, you touched your phone, time to sanitize hands again. The staff were vigilant; they sanitized anything that touched me--the blood pressure cuff, the table that I leaned on, the chair I sat on.  And honestly?  I valued the opportunity to get out of the house on a legitimate, sanctioned trip and would happily go donate weekly if that was an option.

Zoom Gatherings

Most of us in strict isolation have reached our tolerance for solitude by now and we're actively reaching out to friends and family. Today my siblings had a Zoom gathering with 13 people in three states.  Everyone was eager to join in and find out what's happening with our clan of about 40 cousins, including children and grandchildren. My younger siblings say their workday is nothing but Zoom meetings--with clients, students, coworkers.   A gathering like this wouldn't happen in our normal life.  We get together when siblings are in the Twin Cities and we keep in touch, but the constraints of speaking one at a time became obvious very quickly. Like most big families, we talk in strands of conversation that weave around and overlap with lots of laughter and side comments. Zoom gathering with small groups of friends are now on our schedule.  Given our quiet lives, we have to save up enough news for a weekly meeting.  CoronaVirus Rhapsody

Birthday Celebration

So it was my brother-in-law's birthday last Friday. We decided to celebrate by getting together - but being mindful of 6 feet separation. So we went to the St. Kate's parking lot and parked our cars 6 feet apart and opened windows and passenger went to backseat behind driver. And then we chatted - had a cupcake - and it worked quite well.  The only thing is that it's not conducive to wine or other alcohol beverage.  And you need to bring your own food. Anyway - just an alternative to the virtual chat.