With more and more people venturing out, some safely and others not so much, I just want to offer a way to keep tabs on regional herd behavior beyond social media, and without having to leave your couch.
None of the segments or articles amplifying the push to reopen restaurants sought input from a medical professional or anyone else who might suggest that opening the doors next week is reckless.
“People might expect me in this moment to write some anthem railing against capitalism and authoritarian government surveillance or whatever, but what I had in me was a love song.”
According to one probationer who I spoke with for this column, that routine—which they had to go through twice last week—involves waiting in a lobby close to other people, riding in an elevator with an Averhealth employee, pulling their pants down and shirt up, peeing in a cup, and handing over the goods.
"It’s a situation where our primary business model has closed, and our secondary business model has come to the forefront for now."
The meat conveyor stretching from the garage to the gates made for a wintry cinematic ride into the unknown. It felt like blindly speeding through a smoke cloud on a NASCAR track, even though I was prudently gliding, feet in place and hands in pockets, at two miles per hour.
“Now, what’s happening is that everybody’s panic to buy supplies is interrupting the system I have. I need rubbing alcohol. Hand sanitizer is getting more and more difficult to access, and the supplies to make it are also selling out of stores.”
What about the people on the second line, those handling the pandemonium the rest of us are causing, rightfully or not, with our mad dash for butt wipes?