Whether at bar and grills, convenience stores, the UPS Store, or even WalMart, this is all a recap of how we got here with the virus — and perhaps a glimpse of where we are going.
And at Micklesen Drug store, the hours soon got much longer, up to 16 a day (on almost all of them and growing). This was the first time I can remember their main men not smiling at a bad joke, and just seeming all out stressed. I have not seen one of them behind the counter for weeks, should I be worried? And now that the vaccine(s) are out there, and even before this was rolled out, the call for such services rose by 30 a day. People too were trying to hoard their prescriptions like some used to do food, or drink, and still probably do if they have the means, just in case there would be a huge supply lag.
The signs soon appeared on bar doors, too, saying that you needed a mask to come in, but also as some caught up to speed faster then others, it seemed, that provisions were added. We will still serve you and by law not ask if you have an underlying medical conditions such as asthma that kept a mask off your face, many read almost as one and the slight variations likely did not come from the health departments. But the signs and their lingo a few months later drifted away and the doors were back to sporting just glass and hours of operation, which dwindled away from the all-night stores shifting to an early evening closure, then reverting back again, to a large degree, in late fall.
Doors also stated capacity, anywhere from just under one hundred at Hop and Barrel, to close to three times that at County Market, which rolled out the rules far more than almost any of the bars, and enforced them to a much larger degree. The Smilin’ Moose was a notable example among that crowd when it came to enforcement, but there of course was the gray area of how to eat and drink with them on. Slide them up from the bottom was often the recourse, and there were many workers who would chastise you if your nose was spared from cloth — especially early on. But eventually, even bartenders in many spots stopped donning the masks, although for retail clerks it was another story. And some of them, if you were a regular wouldn’t give you the business, especially if you just plain forgot it at home, even if it was time after time.(I soon started feeling like Zorro, when I had my jacket collar pulled way on up, although I am not sure how apt that reference is). And after all, there was that one lady of the evening, sorry about the bad pun, behind a counter as a clerk who — gasp! — was seen without any such covering. And at Green Mill, despite social distancing reminders on the counter spaced, with every other chair, all the regulars would congregate on the south end, with how far that way depending on the amount of consumer traffic coming through the door, on which like many such places also had a creative piece of quasi-art and stick figures shown to drive home the point.
And these days, it may come down to counting your pennies. And how that applies, like so many things these days, seems to depend on when the bad-bacteria day is. I have noticed on my walks to Kwik Trip in North Hudson — hey we all have to get our exercise as we can find it — there can be quarter on the ground as my military in-laws have always been trained, as if being wary of a mine field, to look down as you walk. Pick it up? Or want to wait and see if it is still there after you shop, as you can’t wait to grab t. At first as people had needs that were off the charts, and hadn’t adjusted to them yet, they would scarf it up just like that. A bit later to counter, that same nickel might be there not only when you entered but when you exited. And as need took hold and people had to adapt, I will say this: We don’t have a lot of huge value to take, but when the virus first hit home and the economy faltered and unemployment was off the (economists) charts, I came home late and stumbled onto a man who had entered my garage, then bolted as the car was being parked. He left in a hurry when encountering me, bolting back to the woods in back like so many meth makers have done, so I went back there to ask him what motivated him to do this. But he was long gone. I don’t think this was a professional burglar as he appeared to be scared silly by my brazenness and never returned to see what he could grab. Just a man pushed to his limits by need, for as I have said to some people in law enforcement and did not get rave reviews, hey if you haven’t eaten for a week you will likely steal a loaf of bread. Don’t chop off his or her hands based on this need for self-preservation, like in some societies. That could be a virus entry point.
All starts at WalMart. When the grand toilet paper caper began, it was here that the shortage was front and center at Sam Walton’s brainchild. Only he could not dictate, and overcome, their supply to the market considerations that were brought to the fore for the reason that was given at the time — some of the paper products were, possibly, made in countries where the virus had already gained a great big foothold. Any thing to use like that in your bathroom flew off the shelves almost instantly when shit hit the fan — sorry — earlier that day. My wife gave me stern orders to go get what I could just a couple of hours before that, and I thought she was making too much of it, but then when I got to WalMart there nary a box to be found. People had literally been pulling them off the truck when it arrived and the worker was striving to haul it out of the parking lot, I was told.
And so there was no TP be found, on most days, and even tissue paper and paper towels became substitutes, with on their shelves all that was left to be purchased were a few oddball stragglers. The disinfectants also were flying off the shelf, with even things as substitutes that were as far reaching as toilet bowl cleaner being so in demand that they too were hard to be located. And even today, at Perkins, you can still see two and one, which become three, of the disinfectant containers as big as the maple syrup dispensers, (there’s that word again), all in the vicinity of the cash register. When there was a supply on hand, most stores were limiting the purchase of toilet paper and even tissues to one per customer — and I don’t know how it would play out if you made multiple trips in a day — and some like the Freedom store in North Hudson enforced that rule with their signs right beside the price tag for things such as Charmin, but there was an ace in the hole for consumers in that if you were willing to settle, there was no limit on the Scott brand. So that meant it became short in supply too. And down the road at Kwik Trip there was a set of big hanging baskets, one of which had candy and was close to being full, and the other labeled for disinfectant, but it was typically bought out.
Back at WalMart, the entryway was retooled with use of what was almost like a police, no-cross line to take you in a short loop into the main area so you would pass by workers who were like light-duty, kinder and gentler mask police. On the way back out, for a couple of weeks, there was one sign that said help out as you can with wearing of masks gently encouraged, then 10 feet later another placard that said more sternly, there was no way you could be in there without facial covering. They at first saw a market niche by selling for a few bucks the masks you would need, a full 60 feet into the store, and you would have to buy three at a time in a pack. Like many, they soon redacted and offered them to customers for free. A curiosity, and not a bad idea, was to have the aisles be designated what was essentially a series of one-way streets, to keep people from crossing paths going this way and that, and create a scenario where they would not breath on each other.
There were a whole series of ways that checkout places in stores sought to aid social distancing, with some leaving a literal yellow footprint at six-foot intervals as a guide — although it was clear when setting these things up, that there was use of a tape measure to ensure down-to-the-inch accuracy. Big plastic shields went up by the cash registers, and at places like the USP store, there were small boxes that require people to stand right there while waiting in line. Pity the fool who is bigger than average. At some junctures there were whole bigger boxes of these directions, written on the floor and cordoned off with rope-like tape, ranging left and right and forward and one step back, then two steps back.Those being big, six-foot-in-length steps. And on all sides at a set of convenience stores, there continued to remain on the doors signs for their sale of 79 cent sodas — even though such self-service fountain drinks were barred from being sold for many seeks. Lastly, there did seem to be a bit of wiggle room at some very specific points, as rules were relaxed then put back in at full-strength, for things such as selling donuts when handled with plastic sheets — now not just a guideline that has always been there, but now the law. And for all those light cardboard boxes of donuts that can be seen at prominent places in the checkout lane, right beside the disinfectant, one has to wonder if the presence of their folds makes them non-air-tight.