“The single most important action we can all take, in fighting coronavirus, is to stay at home in order to protect the NHS and save lives.
When we reduce our day-to-day contact with other people, we will reduce the spread of the infection. That is why the government has introduced three new measures.
- Requiring people to stay at home, except for very limited purposes.
- Closing certain businesses and venues.
- Stopping all gatherings of more than two people in public.
Every person in the UK must comply with these new measures, which came into effect on Monday 23 March. The relevant authorities, including the police, have been given the powers to enforce them – including through fines and dispersing gatherings.
The government will look again at these measures after three weeks, and relax them if the evidence shows this is possible.”
– UK Government
Pharmasutical Friend
“Is this the line for the pharmacy?”
I glance up from my cell phone, the spring sun reflecting off of my Facebook feed. A woman with straight, summer blonde hair and wrinkly khaki shorts leans in towards me as if to make up for the six feet of social distancing between us.
I instinctually glance ahead of me at the line of people who stand in their designated boxes marked by thick strips of tape smashed into the concrete. Most everyone is waiting solo, but there’s a couple a few people ahead of me, his arm wrapped around her waist in a seemingly protective hug. My heart stutters in wanting of my own boyfriend. I try to brush the thought away, even separated by isolation I know we are one of the lucky couples.
I look back to the woman.
“I think so,” I say with a soft smile. “Either that or I’ve been in the wrong queue for twenty-minutes.”
“That long, huh?” The woman grins and steps in line behind me, a large block of sidewalk between us. I feel like the entire city of Swansea is playing Volcano, everyone pretending, like children, that the ground is made up of scolding lava.
I quietly chuckle to myself as I revert my gaze back to my phone. I scroll through a variety of videos; dog’s saving humans, humans saving dogs, a hipster dad trying to teach his kid how to say something other than “fuck”, Trump’s latest word vomit on something he doesn’t even understand, and so on. My favorites were the videos of people banding together to bring hope to others like the apartment complex in Italy that played music from their balconies, or the street that celebrated a little girls birthday from their driveways. My eyes rove the screen in hopes of a taste of normalcy. This is the only way I am allowed to travel to anywhere but the grocery store, the park, and the pharmacy.
“Such an odd thing,” the woman says in a chipper manner, startling me.
I glance up at her. I know she’s talking about lockdown. Who isn’t these days?
“Ya,” I start a bit awkwardly, caught off-guard by an in-person conversation with someone other than my flatmate and my dog. “Totally weird situation.”
“I just moved back to Swansea for the first time in five years and then this happened.” She doesn’t say this like it’s a burden, more like she thinks this is a Hollywood comedy.
The wait-someone’s-talking-to-me-introvert-knot in my stomach eases.
“Oh wow, so you’ve been here as long as lockdown then?” I ask.
The woman nods enthusiastically. “I’m learning how to do my job from home,” she says.
Everyone in line slowly starts to shift forward. I carefully inch after the guy in front of me, our 6 feet requirement still between us. The woman follows behind me but keeps her distance as well. Social distancing has become another form of being polite, like saying “bless you” when someone sneezes or shaking hands when you meet someone for the first time.
“What do you do?” I ask, reverting my attention back to my new friend.
“Employee leadership training.”
“Doesn’t that require being with people?”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
We can’t help but laugh a bit.
Suddenly a nurse draped in a white coat, blue medical gloves, and a blue mask sidles up to me. From a distance of course.
“Name, please?” He asks, a clipboard in one hand and a pen clipped open in the other.
“Shelby Salerno,” I answer. He jots this down on the paper like its urgent information.
“How can we help you today?” He means on behalf of Boots.
“Just picking up a prescription.” I drag a thin, green hued paper from my back pocket.
He nods as I pass it over to him. Before I can finish my “thank you” he’s suddenly moved on to the woman behind me.
We shuffle forward once more. I’m only four people away from the front door now. I bet my flatmate expected me to be gone for only ten minutes. I mean, I did.
Still, being able to bask in the sun rather than our dimly lit dining room was nice.
“You must be from American?” the woman asks from behind me, the nurse having moved on to the elderly man behind her.
“Oh,” I smile sheepishly. “Ya. I’m from California.”
“I went to California with my mother a few years ago. Absolutely loved it. Santa Monica Pier was absolutely lovely. Are you here studying then?”
I nod.
“And what’re you studying?”
“Creative writing.”
“That’s exciting!” She shifts her weight onto her other foots. “Does your family live in California then?”
I start to respond when out of the corner of my eye a figure approaches.
I hadn’t realized the nurse had gone back inside the pharmacy because suddenly he is besides me once more, a paper bag in his hand.
He hands it to me with a brief smile and I thank him as he turns away in a hurry.
“Its was nice talking to you,” I say to the woman, shifting my medication from hand to hand. And it has been nice to talk to her, even for such a brief amount of time. Nice enough for me to write about it because while in lockdown every human encounter matters.
“Well, it was lovely talking to you. Ta-da!” She says.
As I wander out of line and down the street, leaving my friend behind, I can’t help but take in a deep, rejuvenated breath. Like the salty, spring breeze, that ten minute chat is all I needed to energize myself for the rest of the day stuck inside. I didn’t even need to know her name to connect with her.
I continue onward and wonder idly how long the line at Tescos is.
When I get home I don’t touch anything until I have scrubbed my hands clean in the nearest bathroom.
That was my “1-a-day” adventure out into the world.
Luckily I have a dog, so she gets one too.
