Holy Sh*t - Notes on 2020, Vol. 3

One thing I find interesting about today’s Coronavirus lifestyle is going into the liquor store. Like any public place, you go about your business with a mask. In the case of purchasing alcohol, however, the clerk at the counter can no longer see the bottom half of your face, and hence, must make a decision regarding approximating your age, and whether they want to check your ID. Well, as it turns out, the top half of my face is holding up a lot better than the bottom, because I get carded almost every time now. It’s flattering to be in your thirties and getting carded again like you did when you were in college. This must mean no one notices the Paulie Walnuts-esque grays I’m getting on the side of my head, which is also nice.

I hate elevators. If given a stairs option, I’ll take them every time. If I don’t have the option, I prefer to ride with at least one other. And yes, it’s so that in case the elevator breaks down, I’m stuck with someone else who has the wherewithal to make decisions while I have a panic attack and probably scare myself to death. So when I realized the apartment building in which I’d been staying with my girlfriend was going to allot for one person/family in the elevator at a time, well, let’s just say it was a big adjustment. Any time I went to get our Seamless/Grubhub/Freshdirect from the lobby, I needed to adopt that pick-oneself-up-by-the-bootstraps mentality, and fucking take that elevator alone. Her apartment is on the twenty-seventh floor, so this adventure could go either way. One version of this elevator ride is stopping on every second or third floor because other people are also trying to go down, and thus having the possibility of someone being in a hurry, not wanting to wait, and acquiring a companion (Let me just say, I wear a mask in that elevator shaft every single time). The other version is of course a long single ride, where I’m looking at the service bars on my phone to make sure I could still call someone if I needed to. Yep, that’s me.