There were quite a few people in the store. In act it seemed busier than it usually did when I used to go in there BC (Before Coronavirus.) More distressing was the fact that at least half the customers I saw were maskless. Most of the maskless were thick-set middle aged guys, most with noticeable paunches and a bit to a lot of scruffy facial hair. You know, butch peckerwoods. All the store staff were masked, and the door featured several notices to the effect that the store preferred that the customers be masked, but many of the customers gave no evidence of having any fucks to give about that. It occurred to me that in our newly upside-down world, the good guys are the ones wearing masks, and the bad guys aren't. Since one's own mask offers little protection to oneself, but quite a bit more protection to other people, we can see who cares about whom. Yeah, the bad guys don't care, and probably don't even think they are being bad guys.
Anyway, I grabbed a bottle of dish washing liquid (the store turned out to be well stocked in that particular item, though nearby shelves were denuded of other cleaning products.) Then I picked up two six packs of beer, a package of Lorna Doone shortbread cookies, and a bag of Heavenly Light popcorn. They had some varieties of the other snack I was hoping to find, Chester's Puffcorn, but not the flavor I wanted, so I got the popcorn instead. Then I went to the check stand, paid, and got the hell out of that place, feeling very bad for the clerks who had to spend their entire shifts in a place abundantly supplied with inconsiderate assholes. The staff really ought to strike until the company makes mask-wearing mandatory for customers. We only have to be in that petri dish for a few minutes, but the clerks have to be there for hours. It must be nerve wracking.
The shopping center CVS is in also has the Trader Joe's, the Dollar Tree, and a 99 Cent Store, all of which were open, but my route home took me through the parking lot in front of another store, Sportsmen's Warehouse. which is also still open, probably because they sell survival goods. Their part of the parking lot was nearly full, and most of the vehicles in it were trucks or SUVs, and I saw several more of the thick, chunky, scruffy guys coming and going there. The thought crossed my mind that they could be stocking up on ammunition for the revolution, when they will converge on Sacramento from all over the rustic fringes of the state to insist that the bars and tattoo parlors be reopened.
So I huffed and puffed my way back to the apartment and then drank a beer while regretting that I still live so close to Texafornia. As I'm close to running out of milk I think I might soon have to make another run to the hell hole to get the essential cow secretion from Trader Joe's. I should really do that before the intense heat arrives, which is... Thursday. Oh, dear. I wonder if I'll be up to going out again this afternoon? TJ's is on the same side of the parking lot as Spurtsman's Warehouse, and I don't relish the thought of getting any closer to that place.
The adventure out was tiring, and I didn't feel like cooking again, so I ended up microwaving another bowl of ramen. I'm thinking of melting some butter and putting it on a small bowl of the pre-popped popcorn. But I want to save some of that popcorn for next Tuesday through Thursday, when the weather forecast now says we could have showers. I like to have a nice bowl of popcorn on a rainy day.