I feel as if I am preparing myself to bungee jump off of a towering building every time I go to the grocery store.
I want to go to be one with the produce…to get up close and personal, fondling organic white peaches and bodacious honeydews, but as with outdoor sports challenges, I feel as if I am tempting fate.
I found a fabulous halibut recipe and needed three ingredients that I did not have.
Around 9am yesterday I suited up and went to my local market…first time since March at Gelson’s, once to Trader Joe’s.
You cannot gain entrance without a mask and the amount of people allowed in is staggered.
Most customers were hangin’ in the produce section.
The majority were women who felt that the aisles were their own personal texting lane and obviously conductivity was stronger around the stone fruit and melons because many were stuck in place with the cell glued to their ear.
They were blocking the aisles and all I wanted to do was a grab and go.
I risked life and limb to retrieve healthy food which seems like an oxymoron.
I helped a distressed man who could not figure out how to take the paper tab from the Take-a-Number deli ticket machine.
Now I am worried that I was too close.
This is what life has come down to…am I too close to another human and there is no sexual contact involved…no STD or pregnancy worries, just Covid cooties.
Furthermore, am I am the only one who feels like the produce is dying a much quicker death lately rather then enjoying a longer lifespan, experiencing excessive wilting, bruising, arrested development.
Are they mocking us because they are not allowed to grow and multiply in their usual large numbers, their producing potential masked by human stupidity.
I sense a protest from the produce who outwardly appear to be as angry about the state of America as we are.
Photo:Dreamstime.com, Flickr.com
