Approximately a week ago, I timidly stepped into CVS in minimal hopes that there would be some (or really any) cleaning solutions available as my products of protection from the Budlight Virus….oh, wait, I mean the C-virus. Surely you know even if you live under a sheltered, sturdy rock about the Corona Virus, or what I am calling the C-Virus. I hated to admit that I was starting to get the surges of anxiety and nerves with the C-Virus and felt it was my utmost duty to try and safeguard my second kidney transplant and weakened immune system with whatever tools I could find.
I hesitated going up to one of the staff members as it seemed that we were all at a weird time and place of trying to steer clear of people who have the dread G-word of “Germs,” but I truly had no idea which aisle were the following: Clorax wipes, Gloves, Antibacterial sanitzer, and Masks.
The guy shrugged in complete defeat said, “Out of everything,”
I wondered how many times he had to say this today and when that line of “out of everything” started. I wondered how many pharmacists and staff members were handling ordering supplies only to come to the dawning realization that there simply were not enough supplies for the demand from the mass.
“Nothing?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he confirmed.
I sighed. No ammunition. No protection against the abundance of caution. I wandered forlorn to the cleaning products in hope that maybe there was a stray rolling Clorax container in the aisle. And, then, the Hallelujah chorus seemed to boom when my eyes zoned in to the very top shelf of disinfectant sprays. Yes! Disinfectant sprays! Of course, they had to be located where it was the most difficult for me to retrieve. Victory would be mine!
Without anyone in sight, I started to try to climb up the shelves. Then, all of a sudden, the disinfect spray was gone. I was so focused on trying to climb the shelves that this woman who well had the height, arm lengths, and leverage over my not even 5 foot height had snatched up the very last canister of Lysol disinfectant. She held the very last Lysol canister as though it was a gleaming trophy. I stared at her. I was shocked. I was speechless.