The Store - A little fiction?

    He hated going to the store. The weekly ritual, previously a joyful excursion, was now a ball of stress and pressure.
    This pandemic was getting out of hand. The stay-at-home order was a irritation. But, he told himself, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.
    He lived in a little apartment, in a small suburb north of a metropolis. He didn't require much for his needs. But, today, he needed eggs and milk.
    Squinting into the fridge, he couldn't see the labels on the things he bought. He was slowly going blind, the effects of diabetes, that caused bleeding in his eyes and destroyed his vision. But, he managed to cook for himself, and maybe some people would laugh at the simple fare he made for himself.
    He enjoyed cooking. It was a routine that he kept to avoid gng out to eat processed food from a fast-good place. Yes, he cooked a lot of pasta. It was easy enough to hear the water boiling and telling his phone to set a timer for the allotted minutes. He only cooked sausage and bacon and sometimes, a luxury, ground beef. He could tell when they were ready to eat, the smoke alarm sometimes told him so.
    But, today, he needed eggs, and milk. Was he out of toilet paper? He looked and decided he needed more rolls. Cpffee, he noted, as he looked through his cupboards, was getting low. Add that to the small list he created in his head.
    So began the ritual of getting dressed. After showering, he dressed in a snap-button shirt, jeans with a belt and his orthopedic shoes. He surveyed himself, looking for any spots on his clothes, at least the ones that contrasted with the dark blue of his pants, or the plaid black-and-gray of his shirt. It looked okay to him. Satisfied that he was fully dressed, he got his electric razor and shaved his stubble. Then he felt his hair and it was nearly an afro. He put some gel on that and got the hair flat and neat. Squirting the toothpaste directly in his mouth, he brushe his teeth and contemplated the blurry reflection in the mirror. He couldn't see his facial expression. He made several faces, a frown, a d smile, a surprised face, all indistinguishable.
    Now, he was ready. He picked up his phone, grabbed his magnifying glass, and opened his bus application. He made out that he had 20 minutes to get to the bus stop, so he decided to go ahead and go. Walking there was a dangerous journey and he didn't mind waiting once he got there.
   He got his mandatory mask, his plastic gloves, his hat, sunglasses and cane. He put a jacket on, as Siri chimed that today was "52 degrees". He put his wallet and keys in the customary pockets and left.
   He had lived in this building for a number of years and had memorized the number of steps and how far he had to go. He walked past the pool, barely missing the "We Floor" placard, that was bright yellow and, to him, nearly blended with the ground. He slowly descended the stairs, counting them silently to ensure he didn't miss one and fall to his untimely death (or brain damage, hel hoped) and out the main gate.
   As he stood there and breathed in the slight breeze, he could see different colored blobs, whizzing past him with roars and rumbles and other mechanical noises. He used to be able to identify the make and model of most vehicles, but he only saw them as a car, a truck, a bus or an eighteen-wheeler. He unfastened the strap on his cane and shook it. It clattered out to its full length and he turned left and began his trip to the corner.
   As he approached the fast-food restaurant, he slowed as he reached the driveway. He waited a moment, peering around to see if any blocky shapes were approached to enter or exit the parking lot. Seeing nothing moving, he continued.
   When he got to the corner safely, he felt for the button to call the "Walk" signal and waited. He could barely see hte red light across the street. It flickered in and out of his vision and he kept s;hifting his eyes, not directly looking at it but keeping it visible.
   It turned green, telling him he could go. He looked to see if any cars were turning left, and raised and lowered his cane as he was trained to do, to let others know he was walking. When he stepped into the crosswalk, a little car buzzed into the intersection and turned left in front of him, missing him by a couple of feet. He felt like stoping and waving his arms angrily and expressing anger, but he didn't have time. He could just see the "Don't Walk" blinking, so he hurried, waving his cane again at any would-be jackrabbits with leaded feet and NASCAR on the brain.
   He made it. Breathing deeply, he sat on the bench wo wait. A woman came to wait at the stop too. From several feet away, she asked him which bus he was waiting for. The roar of the traffic drowned her words, and he didn't respond. She gave up, not moving any closer. A man sat on a short brick fence behind them. He could hear this man, who blew his nose repeatedly. It sounded like a dog howling and he looked around for the apparently distressed puppy. Seeing none, he finally saw the man and realized that he was making all that noise. Then he remembered his mask. It was a paper thing, but he strapped it over his ears. His breathing fogged up his sunglasses. He was glad he brushed his teeth, and idly felt his pockets to see if he had any extra mints stowed away.
   The bus came at last, a big, bright, orange box that floated up to the stop. Opening its doors, its recording conversationally stated where it was going. He squinted at the bus number and saw it was the right one. He had his pass ready. He waved it on the transponder and listened for the chirp. The driver asked, "Where do you need to get off?" He named his stop. "Okay, sir, there's a seat to your right." Thanking him, he slowly made his way to his seat and sat down. He adjusted his hat, folded his cane and stared at nothing.
   A man with a Spanish accent was talking loudly on the phone. The one-sided conversation didn't really make sense, possible muffled by his mask, but it went somethig like this: "You kidding? I haven't played that in years. What game you talking about? Zenga, Zynga, Jenga? I don't know no Jenga. Never heard of it. That long? Wow, I wouldna known thaaaat"
   He wondered what it would be like to have a break-up discussion with your girlfriend on the bus without feeling awkward and exposed.
   The bus trundled along, dropping off and picking up people. At one stop, a young boy got on. The driver said, "You're not wearing a mask, the law says you gotta have a mask." The boy protested, but the driver sternly told him to get off the bus. The kid ignored him and walked down the aisle. A big guy stood up and told him hotly that he didn't want this kid to get him sick, so told him to get off. The boy, thinking this was a wise choice, left the bus. Everyone sighed.
   This pandemic.....he thought. He appreciated that where he lived wasn't a complete lock-down, like Italy or other countries. But, it was easy to see everyone was nervous. He focused on the stops being called and breathedd calmly. He finally go off at his stop, and walked to the supermarket where he shopped.
   Entering the store, he could hear some woman screaming that "girls just wanna have funnnnn". Did he need a cart? No. He had a bag in his jacket pocket, but recalled that they banned reusable bags a few days ago. Hg grabbled the plastic basket by the foor and started down the aisles. He had memorized this store as well.
   The coffee aisle was in the middle, so he sarted odwn it. Big bags of coffee were on a shelf shoulder-high. He used the Magnifier app on his phone and zoomed on the coffee brands. He wanted any coffee flavor except Nicaragua. That coffee tasted like old cigarette butts. He debated between Tanzania or Peruvian, and settled on Tanzania. He didn't remember having that yet.
    There were several people in the store. He had arrived after the hour the market set aside for seniors and disabled people, but that was fine. The place was not crowded, so he moved slowly around the shelves, avoiding people and not standing for too long in one place. He got his things and made his way to the front, and got in line.
        The woman with her son stood in front of him. The kid was happy not being in school, but his demands for this and that made his mother sigh with irritation. He looked down and mentally measured the distance between himself and the two people. His cane was exactly four and a half feet in length. He stretched the cane and could touch the back of the mother's leg. He moved back a step and decided it was safe. Other shoppers and employees maneuvered around him as they too did their berst with social distancing. Some close encounters of the viral kind ws unavoidable, and he cringed when someone brushed against him. He figured he should try to get his groceries delivered, but he liked this store, though they did not have that option yet. So, it was a foray into danger that did not carry with it the thrill of adventure and daring. The line inched foward, as the clerks, behind protective glass barriers, scanned and bagged the purchases in paper bags. Finally his turn. He paid with his phone, waving it over the terminal like a man searching for water. It dinged a successful purchase and he got his bag and left.
        The bus did not come for 30 minutes. He had time to kill. He stopped at a nearby doughnut store and boudht a cinnamon roll and coffee. He made his way across the street, safely again, and ate his food slowly and sipped his hot coffee. The sun was shining, the fumes from the vehicles made his head fuzzy. He meditated on the rest of his family, who lived far away.
        He arrived home after a jolting bus ride and breathed deeply once he locked his door behind him. Even though he had gloves on, he peeled them off, thew them away and washed his hand vigorously in the scalding water from the tap.
        He felt exhausted. He would take a nap, then eat when he was rested. He fell into a sleep, dreaming of a time when he would take a road trop somewhere and enjoy solitude in a lonely place, appreciating nature.