Coronavirus Dispatch #4

Getting in line with the Seniors at Trader Joe’s and other tales

Let’s start with the required update on numbers just to stay current and remind ourselves what the hell is going on in this city where helicopters routinely hover overhead and most people wear some kind of face covering.

There are currently 16,617 confirmed cases in Manhattan with 1,541 dead as of today. That’s not the five boroughs. That’s Manhattan.

Terrifying as that sounds (and it certainly does), we are less than six blocks from one of the biggest hospital complexes in the city where the conditions are unimaginable, while we sit tight in our apartment and wait. Friends have been desperately sick and recovered. Elderly relatives of other friends have not. There will be no visiting hours or funerals.

Other than the empty streets, the masked people, the strung-out lines at the few stores still open, and the heaviness we all feel pressing down on us, it’s just another day in the city.

Except most of us aren’t working. Which is weird.

Life, as they say, goes on

We arrived at Trader Joe’s at 8:15 am several days ago and already two lines stretched to the corner and halfway down the block. We took our place at the end of the Seniors’ line, roughly eight feet from the person in front of us, and watched as other people arrived and either left disgusted or joined the line, resigned.

Face it, Disgusted Lady, the line isn’t going to be any shorter tomorrow or the day after.

This is how we shop now and we don’t do it very often. And when we do, we buy a lot! In the days BC (Before Coronavirus), I seldom dropped more than thirty or forty dollars at a pop and more usually it was ten or fifteen bucks and I was good for another day or so.

No more.

We don’t have a station wagon, but we’re generally getting two hundred dollars worth of provisions every ten to twelve days and making like pack animals humping it home. Us and every other schmuck who didn’t manage to score a coveted weekly delivery spot from Fresh Direct or Instacart. We spent an hour one night carefully making our selections online only to discover that there are no delivery options for weeks.

So, it’s the Seniors’ line at Trader Joe’s for us.

The applause finally makes it uptown

For weeks friends had been telling me about how their neighborhoods erupt in cheers and applause and pounding of pots and pans every evening at 7 pm.

Not around here. Until recently.

I attend a weekly meditation meeting on Zoom (it can be done) that starts at 6:30 pm. We read something spiritual and then a timer is set and we sit for twenty minutes. I take my Zoom meetings into the bedroom, thank you baby Jesus that we don’t live in a studio apartment, so there I was perched on the edge of the bed, the tops of the newly budding trees waving outside the window (we live on the fifth floor) and counting my breaths when it started.

First yelling and cheering, then noisemakers left over from New Year’s Eve and then people beating on pots and pans. Cheering for the exhausted and poorly equipped doctors, nurses, nurse aides, patient escorts, cleaning professionals and even the administrative staff at all the hospitals caring for our sick. Cheering for the underpaid and almost certainly uninsured workers at all the places which have been deemed “essential” so we can keep our cupboards and refrigerators filled. It seemed to last for five minutes or more.

Recently, someone has added their tuba to the cacophony. I approve.

Socially Distant Socializing

It’s been over a month since I’ve seen any of my friends in person. We have regular get-togethers on video and a daily text thread to stay up on how each of us is holding up.

But this morning, we actually got up at a reasonable time, showered and put on real outdoor clothes and, check this out, we went outdoors.

Last year, my friend Nico and his partner moved from Brooklyn to a block away from the east side of Central Park. We’re neighbors!

It was chilly but sunny and stunningly beautiful out. Spring sprung early this year so the daffodils are on their way out, the tulips are on their way in and the lilacs are already beginning to blossom. The cherry trees are in full bloom. The fountains are empty and will probably stay that way.

We joined Nico over near his side of the park because it’s more open and there is less chance of people bunching up. These are the things we consider before going places anymore.

If you don’t yet, you will.

It was hard not getting to hug my friend. Nico and I have known each other for about four years but have gotten much closer since he and his partner moved to the neighborhood. In our BC days, I would go over to take care of their cat, Bramble, when they were out of town (remember going out of town?). He’s part of that text thread so I know he’s been having a rough time of it recently. Then again, who hasn’t?

We wandered around the gardens and talked about what’s going on in our shrunken lives. Then we parted, promising to do this again soon. We actually might.

Now it’s your turn. I promise to keep my curtains open but now I need to see how you’re doing in there.

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