Supermarket

We went to Whole Foods yesterday and waited on a small line of face-masked people,spaced six feet apart. Our turn was announced by a face-masked employee who counted the number of shoppers exiting before giving the okay.  I miss the freedom of parking my car, entering a store full of other shoppers. We were guided to a cart that had only just been sanitized by a young woman in a face-mask, wearing blue rubber gloves. Entering the store, we encountered a handfull of others and a burst of I don't know what emotion filled my brain. Was it excitement?  We're in a place where we can make choices, where we can purchase things we want or need. Fish. Chicken. Produce. Dairy. I miss the not being so excited about something as mundane as making choices at a grocery store. I miss selecting my own shopping cart and wiping the handle with a moistened sanitized cloth just because i thought it was a smart thing to do, especially when the cloth revealed how dirty the handle had been before my attention.  We followed the arrows on the floor as we made our way through the store. We kept our distance from the other masked shoppers and gave no indication of possible bodily harm. We worked assiduously at building trust and confidence in those around us.  I miss not being perceived as a possible vector, as a threat to the health and safety of a stranger.  Nobody put a head up. Shopping was all business.  We dared not hesitate, linger, read a label too long, put a product back on a shelf after deciding that the ingredients did not suit our decision to eat as clean as possible. To stay healthy. To have the ammunition that we will need to take another hill, to make it back to base camp. Eventually.  We soldiered on. People are waiting on line outside the door. Take the moral high road. Get in and get out. Be fair to others who might not have patience any longer. It's been two months already.  I miss not noticing people, not evaluating.  I used to do that for a living and I was paid well. I miss an income. Food prices will rise very soon. The will have to. We forgot a few items. Back tracking is not an easy task with all those arrows on the floors telling us which way to proceed. I miss not being so overwhelmed all the time with simple stuff like grocery lists and I miss the feeling of having accomplished with ease, the small chore of crossing everything off. My lists currently have items crossed off before I leave the house - "those are not essential".  We see toilet paper again on the shelves. Not on the list.  We have enough. Let's not hoard.  Somebody else may need it. Look at the prices!  Soon, there will be a glut.  All the greedy toilet paper buyers are now stocked up for a year. I miss not just throwing a four pack of two ply into my cart every few weeks because we were running low.  I miss the whole realm of toilet paper purchasing possibilities.  Funny, now I'm missing the game that finding a four pack on a shelf in a supermarket had become.  Where's Waldo?  Oh boy, I can't wait to tell my friends where to find the Charmin!  I miss not caring.  We proceeded to the checkout area, carefully inspecting the floor for more directions.  Footprints. Yellow feet, spaced every six feet.  Yellow bars painted on a once-innocent floor, demanding our attention. Calling us to line up, spaced, ready for the next attack. This time, the target was the forbidden payment area. The victim, clad in face-mask, gloved and protected behind a huge shield of thick plastic, shouted our orders to us.  Was it a call to arms?  Listen up.  Your life and mine are now on the line and you will obey.  What did he say? I'm sorry, can you repeat that please.  Step back. Stay in the zone that is painted red. Keep your distance from me. Put your card in now. Step to the next step. I miss smiling at the clerk, pleasantries. Knowing what, when, how. Saying thank you for bagging my purchases, not for "coming to work today". I miss being happy at the supermarket, the feeling of having crossed off the list, the small accomplishment that resulted in having the makings of some fine meals. Coming home with a few impulse items. I miss impulse items. I miss feeling accomplished. I miss feeling like I knew how to navigate my way through a supermarket.  I miss smiling at other shoppers, taking my time, reading labels, sampling cheeses.  I feel like a pre-schooler.  I feel old and threatened. I feel out of place.  I worry that this is the way the rest of our lives is going to be. I feel sad and unfamiliar with all the other emotions I feel.  I miss not feeling this way.