I ventured out this morning to our local Safeway supermarket, adjacent to Rossmoor, the semi-country-clubbish senior development where we and around 9,000 other folks live, across the bay from San Francisco and about 10 miles (about 16 kilometres) inland from Berkeley. Got there at 7 a.m.—opening time, according to the internet (used to open at 6).
Driving up, I saw an unusual amount of activity for seniors, at a time in the morning when the store used to be nearly deserted. Big line of people standing in front of the doors with their carts. One lady, whom it was my destiny to line up right behind, was nearly hysterical, shouting that people stand 6 feet apart. “Farther!” she shouted when I got behind her. “Four people in my family work at John Muir Hospital. We’re all going to die if we don’t do that! None of these people are far enough from each other!”
The door opened and the line started moving. The panicky lady, who was technically right, I guess, had just added, “It’s the people behind you that you have to watch out for, when they sneeze!” As I pushed my cart toward the door, I said to her, “I don’t think your attitude helps.” That was the best I could come up with at the moment. I’m not even sure she heard.
The search for toilet paper
Entering the store, I visualized my list and realized I needed to head for the paper goods aisle first. Naturally, many people had already gotten there. There were paper towels, which we’ll need soon… several dozen-packs were left, so I put one in my cart. However, I searched in vain for toilet paper. Five minutes after the store opened, its daily allotment had already been snatched up! My wife and I aren’t desperate yet, but we will be before long. I made a mental note to come even earlier in a few days.
Next, I went to the egg aisle. I use a lot of egg whites, which I usually get at Costco in six-carton boxes. Safeway, though, stocks reasonably priced quart containers. But none today. There were a large number of cartons of jumbo-sized eggs, which Trader Joe’s usually runs out of early in the day, so I got one of those. Then I quickly made my way to get the butter-substitute and the sodas that were the last items on my list, and wheeled my cart toward the cashiers.
The lines at the registers seemed very long, but resigned, I got in one behind a lady whom I saw had managed to get some of the prized toilet paper. When I remarked that I myself had just missed, and would come back another day, the dear woman said, “Take one of mon packages!” And she put one of her two nine-packs into my cart.
I protested, saying, “We really don’t need it yet!” She replied, “I’m not really desperate, either, but it’s not right for some to get more than they need and others to get nothing!” She pointed to a woman in another line whom it appeared might have a whole cartful.
Needless to say, this woman’s simple kindness helped make my day. I’ve read similar accounts, since coming home from Safeway, of friends being similarly uplifted in crowded marketplaces by such small acts, which of course make the recipient want to “pass it on.”
As I continued standing in line, the store manager; a tall, thin, harried-looking man; came by. Another of the toilet-paper losers was sort of nipping at his heels, arguing with him.
“That’s all we’re getting today, I’m sorry!” he said, his tone growing less patient as she continued to demand what he couldn’t provide.
I was prepared for a long wait, but a store worker came by, saying, “I’m opening number 6!” and I got in line second, right behind the lady who’d given me the toilet paper.
Safe and tolerable
As I checked out, I thanked the cashier and the bagger for being there, and also the flower lady, who was checking her display as I wheeled past her near the exit. “Be safe!” she said cheerily, and I replied, “You too!”
My wife Barbara and I are pretty well set for the week. I’ll likely go to Costco before too long, to get a box of their egg whites, but until then, I probably won’t get too fat from eating a few eggs with yokes.
I’m home now, assessing my brief journey out into the world with washed and Purel-coated hands, and wearing the rubber gloves I’d had in my car from the food-distribution volunteer work I do (or did, since the organization, White Pony Express, wants everyone 65 or over to stay home now in compliance with our area’s “shelter in place” guidelines). My foray out really was a little hair-raising, what with that one woman’s shouting at nearly a freak-out volume!
Things aren’t easy, but they’re tolerable for now, at least for this person in a middle-class suburb. And, as long as our supply chains continue to function well, I think they can remain so.
«LECTURE CONNEXE» UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE: A poetic response to the global pandemic»
images: Max Reif
