I’m in the supermarket, veg aisle. A maternal-looking lady sighs, tries to work out where all the other customers are going and repeatedly states how ‘hard’ it all is. Another woman to my right, older, blonde and permed is a lot more lax and stares vacantly into the freezer. People are within less than a metre of each other all of the time, it’s inevitable.
This is interesting from a psychological perspective, and tells you a lot about the human character: when we are outside in a queue we obey the distance laws, keeping an excess of two metres apart from each other. At this point, everyone is slightly bored and passively watching each other, if someone was to deviate, everyone would see and the perpetrator would face public scorn. As soon as we are admitted in store, and everyone’s attention becomes focussed on getting shit for themselves, two metres goes out of the window. The importance of government policy is dwarfed by the importance of just getting by. And though we may have varying degrees of skill, aren’t we all just getting byers?
I feel guilty for forgetting to buy something a few metres back, there are different norms about going back now, if you go back it better be for something important, like a bandage, or a grapefruit.
I still don’t know if everyone has got it, or if none of us have got it. A lot depends on which of those is true. None of us know, this is both inconvenient and baffling.
I pick up a white seeded baguette, brown paper packaged, soft and covered in heroin seeds. Bread is too good, they don’t tell you this but it’s pure junk, French. But it’s different rules now. Baguettes are par for the course. And what will it be three months from here- white chocolate chip cookies, xanax?