Before leaving the house I sat down with my amazing and falsely calm husband to make a list of the things we really need. We didn't want to buy more than we needed because we simply don't have the space in our home to store a year's worth of toilet paper--we just needed enough to get through the next two weeks.
I started the conversation by asking him, "Is my fear a legitimate fear?" I know what you may be thinking--all fears are legitimate because fear is subjective. Well, although this may be true on the surface, folks who have anxiety (points at self) and/or depression or are not neurotypical often experience fear(s) that can be quelled by kind and rational logic (points at husband). He responded to me, "It's ok to be afraid, but we are going to be just fine. But we may need toilet paper." So toilet paper became the first item on my list.
As we began to start building our shopping list, we realized it was going to be short because we have the privilege of being able to keep a well-stocked pantry. We had what we needed in our basic staples of beans and rice, pastas and sauces, grains, spices, condiments, and paper products. What we did not have an abundance of was dishwashing liquid, laundry detergent, and bleach. So those also went on the list. But then the realization hit us that they may shut down schools in our area and our kids will then be home while the two of us are at work.
This is when my panic began. I took a mental inventory of what I thought was in the refrigerator and what we had in the freezer. My mind shifted into quarantine mode and wondered what we would do if we were stuck together in a house for a week, two weeks, a month, even. For the record, nobody in our house is sick. No one has a sniffle. Not a single member of my family has any symptoms of any illness or pain, not even a stubbed toe. I, a rational 48-year-old woman with an advanced degree in education, temporarily lost my mind and visualized the apocalypse. I felt the onset of tears coming on and when I turned to look at my husband, he was casually scrolling through his phone--a clear indication that my vision of the apocalypse was not a legitimate fear. I quickly gathered my mental marbles and returned to my list.
"Bleach? Do we need bleach?" I asked, hoping my voice would bring him back to MY reality.
"I guess we can use a few bottles," he casually responded, as though he had been in the stores and somehow knew "a few bottles" would just be sitting on the shelves.
"But what happens if I don't find bleach on the shelves? What are we going to do?" I asked him, knowing full well that my fear wasn't about bleach not being on the shelves, but really it was about finding a myriad of empty shelves.
"We're still going to be ok. Babe, we have most everything we need. Just get basic stuff and then we will go and find other stuff another time," and with that sentence I left the house on a mission to check off everything on my short list.
The first store I arrived at was Target on Seal Beach Blvd., where I found parking pretty quickly. I grabbed a wipe from the dispenser and quickly cleaned my shopping cart before making my way to the paper goods department.
EMPTY SHELVES
I had been to stores in the last week where there are shelves that are sparse, but I have never in my life seen four aisles of shelves bare in an otherwise full store. I inched closer to two people who were talking to each other in the empty aisle and they were arguing. One lady who was probably in her late 60s was saying that all she wanted was toilet paper and she couldn't understand why she can't just go to her local store to buy what she needs. The man who was arguing with her, presumably in his late 30s early 40s, was telling her that people are losing their minds over fake news. "Everyone is overreacting. No one is going to die of this in the U.S. and this is just far-left propaganda."
I WAS HOOKED AND COULDN'T WALK AWAY
They went back and forth on who was allowed to be concerned enough to buy out all the shelves. She became so flustered with his apathy that she finally said, "I live in Leisure World. I can't take this lightly because I'm not as young as you." That's when my breath stopped. The fact that this man was deliberately being unkind to an elder because he could not empathize with her LEGITIMATE fear broke me. I could not understand how a grown-ass man-child could think it was acceptable to look a distressed human in the eye and tell her that she was overreacting. What a huge privilege to be so untouched, unphased, and out-of-touch with the reality some folks are facing.
I walked over to him and asked him to please leave her alone. He looked at me strangely as though I had spoken in a language foreign to him and that's when I realized that I said, "Dejala en paz," which translates to 'leave her in peace.' I was projecting. I imagined that the woman was my own mother and my brain automatically code switched to Spanish. When I realized this I corrected myself and said, "Her worries are different than yours." Six simple words. True words. That's all it took for him to be broken from his neanderthal spell and walk away from her.
I watched him walk away shaking his head. The woman stood there looking at me and said, "I wonder if he knows his mom or his grandma may have the same worries I do." I had no words to help her other than apologizing for her experience and telling her that I hope she found what she needed soon.
I continued shopping the almost-empty shelves for things I still had on my list and left 30 minutes later.
Next stop, Big Lots. The store was relatively uninhabited compared to Target, but still the shelves were empty. I was able to pick up a few snacks that weren't available at Target in anticipation of the children being out of school for the next few weeks. (At the writing of this post, we have not been given word that our schools are releasing students.)
Next stop, Target in north Westminster, where shelves were just as bare but the store was bustling with folks buying up all the canned food from the shelves. My first stop was to the feminine hygiene section to stock up on supplies for the family. The Target in Seal Beach had very limited supplies left but the Westminster Target looked as though it had just been replenished with pads and tampons--lucky us!
I made my way over to the meat section to buy lunch meat and packaged meats for the omnivores, and tempeh and tofu for the Wolf. There was plenty to buy there to get us through the next week and I put just enough in my cart to complete the meal calendar I quickly came up with. I bought a few more cans of chickpeas before heading to the cash register. I chose the only human cashier available downstairs even though the person in front of me had a whole cart full of groceries and I only had about 15 items.
The gentleman continued unloading his groceries while he uncomfortably explained that his wife had given him a list of items that they "absolutely needed to get through the next two weeks of quarantine" in their household. The cashier asked him if they had tested positive for the flu and when he said that they were all healthy, she chuckled and asked him why he was overreacting. HERE WE GO AGAIN.
I listened as he explained to her that they had an infant at home and his wife really did not want to take any chances because it was their first baby. It meant that he would need to be doing all the shopping because he did not want to take the chance of his wife and child becoming exposed to illness unnecessarily. She said to him, "I think people are overreacting. They don't need to do so much. Again, that's just my opinion, but I really think everyone is overreacting."
This man just spent seven minutes justifying his purchases. He didn't have to give any reason why he was SPENDING MONEY in Target, as he wasn't asking for a handout. He did not need to be told that his wife's concerns were insignificant. All she needed to do was smile and take his money.
I was next...she began to ring up my canned chickpeas, pork chops, tempeh, tofu, lentils, and trail mix. She asked me if I was buying for the apocalypse and before I could even answer what I was doing at my third store of the evening, she said, "You know this is all a big conspiracy. People are overreacting and making it worse for everyone. Everyone needs to relax." My mama taught me to be kind. My mama taught me to keep my mouth shut and stay classy in times of adversity. In other words, my mama prepared me to prevent becoming a tempest in register aisle 6 of Target. I simply thanked her with a smile and said, "Your worries are different than mine."
I didn't find toilet paper or paper towels last night or today. I went to a total of 9 stores in 24 hours and I did not find a single roll. What I did find was folks who were willfully unkind who chose to belittle others while they were at their lowest. We share the same space, air, natural and community resources, and yet some still need to be reminded that just because something is not of concern to them does not mean that it is not a concern to someone else.
I hope you all find what you're looking for on those shelves: I hope you find kindness, empathy, and a few spare rolls of toilet paper to get your family through this period of social distancing. And for those of you with school-aged children, I wish you much success in navigating childcare, school-time meals, and the social needs of your children while school days are suspended.
For those who have found it easy or fun or natural to be unkind to those who find themselves worried amidst this Covid-19 chaos, be mindful--their worries are different than yours.
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