Friday, April 03, 2020

Journal of a Plague Year, Friday, April 3

It felt a bit like it was Halloween when I made my weekly trip into town today.

I decided I should treat it the way I treat going out to spray the fruit trees for insects. Instead of dressing up, I put on some summer work clothes which I could lay aside and was separately. Instead of taking a shower this morning, I took it after I got home.

Adding to the sense of theatricality, I wore a mask for the first time and had my hands in the gallon plastic bags.

It had been two weeks since I had been inside any place in Española. Last week I was able to do everything at a distance.

However, our Brand X telephone company dictated a change. It has the shortest time between when it sends bills and when they are due. This is a gimmick to make it more likely people have to pay late fees.

Last Friday when I went to the post office, I had bills from two companies that are due on the 15th, but not the telephone company which is due on the 10th. As a result, I went to my box and grabbed my mail, then sat in the car to write a check.

I had the choice of taking a stamp with me, or replenishing my supply. I decided on that latter, which is why I had to go into the lobby.

Before I wrote checks this morning, I reconciled my credit card and bank statements. I discovered two weeks ago a clerk had entered 28, instead of 17 as the number of items I purchased. As I result I overpaid the store some $30. I should have noticed this at the time; there’s no way I can prove anything now. I ascribed it to fatigue by the cashier.

The other problem was the ink was so light in places on a receipt, I had mistaken an 8 for a 3. This was from the day when the lines were long, and the cashiers probably didn’t have time to service their registers’ printers.

The last time I went into the post office or stores, the ones in Española were taking precautions, but not the ones in Santa Fé. This time, all the employees in the grocery store were wearing masked with their gloves. Likewise, the people in the post office were so guarded.

Last time, only a few customers were wearing masks or gloves. There’s been news stories speculating that Trump would recommend everyone wear a mask or scarf, although experts weren’t sure they were 100% reliable. Today, more were wearing masks, but no one wore gloves. One older woman was using a scarf.

The post office had installed a barrier so customers couldn’t get close to the counter, while the hardware store had put up a plexiglass sheet by one cashier’s register. It had a hole through which one place small items to be scanned. For larger ones, the person had to reach to the hole with the scanner.

Both also had marked off six-foot divisions, one with pieces of tape, the other with cut outs of feet. I was reminded of a childhood game like Musical Chairs when we all moved forward one position when a person vacated their position. One woman made a point of planting her feet exactly in the markers.

The only ones who were not using all the precautions were the beautiful young women. One cashier wasn’t wearing a mask like the others; another wasn’t wearing gloves like she was two weeks ago. Plexiglass is like a mask: only a barrier, not a guarantee.

No comments:

Post a Comment