No Mask, No Service – at the Park?!

I let out a big sigh and wrapped the elastic of one side of the mask around my ear. 

As I neared the entrance of the store, I wrapped the second elastic around my other ear.  Under my mask, I stuck my tongue out at the sign telling me the cold hard truth: No mask, no service.

I grabbed my sanitized cart and maneuvered it through the produce section.  As I looked into my cart to be sure I wasn’t putting the spinach awkwardly on the strawberries, my mask hit the bottom of my eyeballs.

I tried pulling the mask down with the sleeve of my arm.  I took my list of groceries and lifted it high above my head so I could see it and figure out what I needed next.

Each aisle brought a new level of itchiness.  Instead of using my list for food direction, I was using it to grab my mask and itch my face unsuccessfully.  I felt like a bear without a tree to scratch its back on.

Once outside, I grabbed the disinfecting wipes for my hands, followed up with some hand sanitizer, and blissfully went to town on my face, taking time to indulge every last centimeter of itch.

I unloaded the groceries into the car and sat in the driver seat.  I took my mask and put it in my purse, giving it a dirty look first.  As I sat, waiting to pull out of my spot, I saw new customers arriving.  In place of stuffed fuzzy dice hanging from their rearview mirror, there were masks—the new storage place for what is now a necessity.

To buy groceries, I have to wear a mask.  I have accepted this as my new reality.  The grocery store is the only store I visit.  I guess it is the only PLACE I go to these days besides all of our walks.

Bob and I laugh on our walks.  We can walk down the center of the streets that used to boast regular traffic.  We’ve visited all of the regular attractions in our area and gotten our pictures with them as the Russians did in the movie Red Dawn.  When any of us see someone coming, we move to the other side of the street.  If the road is smaller, we go single file. 

On weekends we travel to parks or preserves to break up the monotony of our walks.  We are not the only ones, either.  While we are there, we all continue to follow social distancing in the same way.  Walk on the other side of the path in a single file.  Sometimes we come to a complete stop and just wait if the situation calls for it.  In general, we are all being smart.  Only a couple of people are wearing a mask.

As more parks and leisure activities begin to open, we are now told we need to wear a mask when we are outside.  Runners, walkers, bikers.  By wearing masks, we are keeping everyone else safe in case we have the virus and are not showing symptoms.  Also, by wearing a mask, I read we are encouraging others to wear them too to keep us safe.

Hello, social policing.

I’ve accepted a lot when it comes to the masks, I feel.  I will mask in stores, yes.  One day soon, I will have to take my kids to the doctor or dentist.  I am prepared to wear a mask.  I got it.  Will do.  I accept this reality.

But please, not on my walks.

This week was another busy week of online learning.  I have to say; I am learning a lot.  Hopefully, the kids are too.

I am ready for the weekend, and it should be beautiful out.  Great for visiting parks, enjoying nature, and getting a bit of exercise.  If weekends past have taught me anything, I think other people will be out there too.  Which leaves me wondering – how many others are going to be wearing a mask on their walk now?  How many people are willing to accept this as their new reality?

My fingers are crossed that we can continue the way we have in weeks past.  We are being smart social distancers. 

I thought having to wear a mask to buy groceries was the worst it was going to get.  I have realized having to wear a mask the second I leave my home is much worse.  That is a reality I am not willing to accept.  I am ready for change.