By MT Cozzola

Our neighbors made us face masks out of cheerful cloth. We wore them yesterday to go grocery shopping. I tried shopping online but didn’t like the wait times and the not knowing what was really in stock, and also I guess I was feeling selfish and stir-crazy.

We wore nitrile gloves in addition to the masks. We wiped down our cart and started throwing stuff into it. Most of the produce was already wrapped in saran. Most customers were wearing masks except for one couple who seemed determined to make this an ordinary shopping trip. Dude refused to make eye contact and kept getting way too close.

I began actively resenting his leg tattoos. Reminding myself that masks are to protect other people made me angrier. Then I remembered we probably shouldn’t be here. I was creating this tension by choosing to shop in person. This made me angrier and also more desperate to stock up on all possible snacks I might crave over the next two weeks.

At the head of the frozen food aisle Dave said, “I’m done. I need to get out of here.” I had no pizzas or ice cream in my cart yet. I had no crackers. I had no cookies. “Fine,” I spat, and pushed my way toward the closest checkout line. Dave followed. “Did you want ice cream?” he asked.

“No,” I said because that was about the only thing I wanted. I stood ten feet behind a woman and watched Dude pause near her cart for absolutely no identifiable reason. “This mask is for you, dumbsh-t,” I wanted to yell, only without the dash.

Dave put an eight-pack of ice cream cones in the cart and I was able to breathe again. The lady at the checkout said things at the Jewel are pretty much back to normal.