The weekly shop during Coronavirus lockdown takes on a whole new meaning. There’s just so much more we have to think about. Can I go in my pj’s? Is it a bit pretentious to wear the hazmat suit? Can I avoid taking the kids as they’re driving me nuts by now and the thought of lockdown shopping without them gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. Or maybe it’s that ‘I’ve-got-a-Coronavirus-temperature’ kinda warm feeling meaning its my turn to waste away in basement hell for fourteen days which in turn means we can’t do the weekly shop even if we wanted to.
And what happens if I bump into a police blockade on the way to the shops. Do I a) approach, wind the window down and shout at the roadblock police really loudly while remaining in the car to minimise the chance of breaking social distancing rule/law/rule-of-law, b) freak out cos that broken wing mirror which I can’t get fixed for love nor money since no friggin’ garage is open will likely lead to one of those ass bending body frisks which when you duck to avoid ends in a tazering-cum-incarceration which ensures that the whole social distancing thing goes totally out the window sharing a cell with a bunch of really scary looking dudes, c) chuck a 180 degree handbrake turn (car handbrake not the wife) and head the other way as quickly as I can without making it look tots inconspics (my daughter taught me that one too – I mean the ‘tots inconspics’ bit and not the handbrake part in case any police are reading this).
Then, once we get to the shops how in friggs name do we follow the social distancing rule/law thing. After all, we’ve been told that if we’re out in the streets and we see others coming our way and there’s more than one of us, we should dodge the oncomers by heading onto the road – which presumably means getting run over is now safer than getting infected. But how does that work in a supermarket aisle I mean are we supposed to scramble up the shelving units to avoid people or do we turn-face and rapido head the other way until we bump into another bunch of people coming from the other end of the aisle meaning we have to climb those damned shelves in any case.
And what’s this new advice about walking as a ‘bubble’ on the streets if we’re out as a family – with the head of the family in the middle – creating a whole new argument about who in the world’s the head of this family and even if we could figure that one out which we sure as hell won’t how do we figure out the move as a co-ordinated, cohesive family ‘bubble’ to avoid others and how, in the supermarket, does a ‘bubble’ climb the shelves? Unless, of course, by ‘bubble’ they mean a family size hazmat suit.
I think I’ll just stay at home. We can always eat the dog.
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