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Keeping Your Health In Line

, , , , , | Right | January 5, 2021

I am an at-home caregiver for two family members of poor health who haven’t been out of the house all year due to the health crisis. As such, I make sure I am as vigilant as possible when I need to go out for shopping or errands with a mask, hand sanitizer, and the works. Also, due to the cold weather, I am covered nearly head to toe with only my hands and eyes showing.

I am mailing packages to family members with their presents and cards because I told them there was NO way we are entertaining this year. Way too many kids and grandkids!

The borough’s post office is in an old, hundred-year-old brick building. When you walk in the large glass and wood doors, there’s a makeshift vestibule that you turn left or right to get into the lobby.

I don’t even make it through the first door, and there’s another man waiting there in line. Everyone’s got masks on, but even without stickers on the floor, everyone’s staying away from each other a few feet.

I set the boxes down as I’m waiting, but the line’s moving fairly quickly, so I take to just holding them as I wait. I am halfway through the line when the man behind me — way too close for my comfort — pipes up.

Customer: “You could probably set your packages down there while you wait.”

Me: “No, I’m good.”

Seriously, they are only about fifteen pounds and not oversized. A few seconds lapse.

Customer: “You could set them on that trash can there.”

He points to one a few feet in front of us.

Me: *Rather sternly* “They’re not heavy.”

I’m normally chatty and nice, but I’m in a hurry and have a bit of anxiety around people in general.

Once more, he pipes up.

Customer: “I only have to ask the lady one question.”

I don’t even bother responding. I assume he wants me to give up my place in line because he only had “one small question,” but hey, we’re all in a hurry. It’s the holidays, it’s cold out, and we’re in the middle of a health crisis.

I steadfastly keep my place in line, and what do you know, within a few seconds, I’m at the counter. My packages take only a minute or two to mail as they are all going priority. One swipe of a credit card, a receipt, and we’re good to go.

I leave and pause outside the door to tuck the receipt in my wallet, and the guy barrels past me. Sorry, dude. We all have to wait our turn!

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