The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 69

She said 69. Heh heh heh.

Masks suck. They really do. and I don't even wear glasses. Honestly, I really can't complain. But whenever I wear a mask, I feel conspicuous. I look stupid. I feel awkward. I can see the edge of the mask in my peripheral vision and it is disconcerting. It's hot. It's a bit claustrophobic. My eyes dry out and start to burn.

Photo by Irene Strong on Unsplash

I have also realized that masks have made me face blind. When I am at the store, I am never quite sure if I recognize someone or not. I think I saw a student at Aldi last week, but I'm not exactly sure. She ducked, as if she was avoiding me. She laughed in the next aisle, as if she was mocking me. I caught myself looking at what she was wearing, at her shoes, at the length of her hair, at her body shape. Was that her? If so, was she avoiding me? Or was she just mocking me? Or was it just a complete stranger, morphing into some strange projection of my own insecurities? When I can't see the faces of those around me, when I am left with only their eyes, I lose the inability to identify others, to identify intent, to read a situation, to read a room.

Yesterday, I was at Rite Aid, picking up a prescription. Since I was there, I figured I might as well refill my own prescription of bourbon and beer. As I was checking out, there were two clerks on duty; the 60ish white woman at the register was clearly training the 50ish Black man. As she rang up the bourbon, she told her coworker that she'd show him how to get it off quickly.

I snickered.

Then, she handed him the bottle that was security capped. She told him that the key was how you moved it. You had to ease it in, and then wiggle it around.

I snorted.

He caught on quickly. "It's not about strength, but about direction and skill," he mused.

I couldn't help myself.

"That's what she said," I said under my breath.

But I was wearing a mask. If they heard me, they didn't react. And I was stuck, laughing at my own bad joke, stuck behind a mask, my smile covered, my intent at connection completely thwarted.

Happy day 69, my friends.

Wear a mask when you are out in public. Please. Because we need this virus to go away sooner rather than later. We need to get to the point to when masks are no longer necessary. We need to get to the place where my bad jokes are once again heard, acknowledged, shared. We need to get to the point where I can once again read a room.

Day 69. This is so hard.

That's what she said.