Guest column: Dispatches from Coronavirus epicenter

EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is a column from my old Grand Valley roommate Gordon Wolotira, who graduated on the same day I did, in 1970. He lives in New Jersey, not far from New York City.

I went shopping today, ten days, more or less, into the Coronavirus pandemic.
Though it wasn’t at the top of my list of things to do, frankly I was running out of food. Cat food, too. I needed lettuce, tomatoes, oranges, avocados and the like — the healthy good stuff that doesn’t last
forever. Also, more importantly, I was running out of wine and what’s dinner without a healthy glass of red wine?
It was a beautiful day to venture out, sunny and almost 60 degrees.
I was pleased that the gas tank was still half-full (half-empty?) as I started my classic 2011 Mercury Milan. In New Jersey, state law mandates that you can’t pump your own gas, so you don’t have to worry about contacting the virus from the last person who used the pump ahead of you. Self-service is verboten, but I won’t have to refill for at least another week. Too bad because gas prices are the lowest they’ve been in years.
As I entered the supermarket, I was pleased to find that it wasn’t that busy. There were a few people, to be sure, but not a crowd. Many were wearing face masks, which immediately reminded you of the age we now live in.
Everyone adhered to the appropriate six feet social distancing rule, and I was glad of that.
Fruit and veggies were plentiful as I started to load my cart. The bins with the self-serve assorted nuts were empty, and I wasn’t surprised; pre-packaged mixed nuts and cashews would have to do.
I checked off my grocery list. Almost everything was in stock, save the paper towels I sorely needed so I doubled up on napkins. The toilet paper shelves were empty but that wasn’t a surprise since they were empty nine days ago during my last visit. Fortunately, I still had an adequate supply!
More good news. Eggs were missing in action last time, but today they were plentiful. Cheese, milk, juice, yogurt — all were there, and before long
I was done with my shopping. All I had to do now was to get in line.
There were only three cashiers working and they were all very busy. Everyone in line seemed to have overflowing, full carts. I picked the shortest one with only one person ahead of me. A few aisles down, a young man was wiping down the conveyer belt with disinfectant. Perhaps he would open soon? I walked over and asked him.
“It will be a few minutes,” he responded.
OK, I thought, this senior citizen will take a chance. I moved my cart over to wait. At least I would be first in line whenever he did open. “That’s not fair!” an overweight middle-aged woman with an angry face yelled from the line I just left. She glared at me as I looked her way. I explained, “He’s not ready to open yet, but you can have my place in line if you like.” She didn’t respond.
She didn’t smile. She didn’t budge. After a few uncomfortable moments, we both started to place our items on our respective conveyer belts and the drama was over.
After I paid the bill, I thanked the young man, Connor, for coming to work that day and being there for all of us. In a pandemic, perhaps grocery clerks are as important as our health care workers and first responders. It’s something to think about. Would (or could) supermarkets even open if they all stayed home?
The liquor store next door to the supermarket was thankfully empty, and I stocked up on the essentials. Checking out, I told the clerk that he now had “the second most important store” in the community. He laughed and replied that there would be riots if they forced him to shut down. I had to agree. Didn’t they try that in 1920?
We are now two weeks into the pandemic and I wonder what things will be like a month from now.