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Saturday, December 31, 2022

COVID Crowd Sourcing

True Story # (1) 

So Tuesday I wandered down White’s Lane to the bank. I had only five fivedollar notes left, which was what I’d started the month with. The same five notes sitting in my wallet because – well, where you going to spend them? I felt like a walk and I’d been to the supermarket the day before, and I was heading over to my pal’s place, and who knew what might happen. I figured a bit of extra cash might help.

Once I reached Church Street and crossed Templemans Lane I could see a man standing on the sidewalk, close to the concrete steps that lead up to the Scotiabank porch and the glass doors that lead into the bank. Probably plucking up courage to ask for an overdraft, I thought.

I was within twenty feet of the fellow when I saw he was chatting to two guys who were standing on the porch. Then I saw that there were in fact seven people standing on the porch outside the glass doors that lead into the bank.

“What!” I expostulated, having run out of books to read and resorted to reading my 1,700 page Canadian Oxford Dictionary, “Is the bank not open yet?”. One of the seven patiently explained to me that there was a limit of eight people allowed in the bank at any time. I didn’t bother to ask if that included bank tellers, for they are people too. Instead, I celebrated Mr. Puzey, my high-school physics teacher and asked “So how come you all aren’t maintaining the mandatory six feet distance between yourselves?”, for all seven were crowded onto a six foot by eight foot landing. Do the math.

True to Mister Puzey’s prediction there was much agitation and physical movement as seven positively-charged protons strived to distance themselves from the other positively-charged protons.

I laughed cheerfully, for Mister Puzey’s teachings were good, and crossed the street to continue my cash-deprived walk to my pal’s house.

True Story # (2) 

Right outside the BELL and Computer store (closed under the Covid War Measures Act) a young woman walked towards me on the sidewalk and, at about thirty feet distance, abruptly stepped off the sidewalk and walked down the centre of the southbound lane on Church Street rather than quickly sidle by someone who, you never know, might be plague-stricken.

Better to be turned into roadway pizza than run the chance of catching (shudder) The Virus.

True Story # (3) 

On Monday I walked down to Swyers hardware with a shopping list as long as the back of my envelope. I collected the bottle of wood glue, the paintbrush, and the tape measure (Tom swears he hasn’t got mine) and asked Pete to have delivered to me two cans of wood-stain, a roll chicken wire and fine mesh, two sacks of de-icing salt, and other stuff too heavy or bulky for me to carry back up the hill.

Swyers charges a flat fee of $5 per delivery, which is wonderful when I want ten sixteen-foot lengths of batten and the like. Howard knows that the shed is unlocked, and he stacks the sheets of Masonite and so on neatly and disappears. I rarely see him to tip him.

Pete says not unkindly “No delivery”.

Howard has been laid off, possibly because orders have dropped off, possibly because deliveries have been stopped, perhaps because … But I am recursing again. [“Curses!”, if you are a fan of The Goon Show ]

So.

No deliveries?

What am I to do?

I pay for the paintbrush that I won’t be using without the wood stain and drop it in my orange shoulder bag and head next doors to Swyers Supermarket and bump into young Kyle who delivers my $100 heavy load of groceries each month for a five-dollar tip. Five-pound sacks of whole-wheat multi-grain and whole-wheat bread flour I can carry home, but that is a heavy trip. Another trip for the 10-lb bag of onions, another for the ten-pound bag of potatoes.

“Not a problem” says Kyle. “I get off at one o’clock now”, and sure enough he rolls up with ten sacks of groceries and I tip him ten dollars because Amanda isn’t working now the café is closed.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I contemplate phoning my pal and suggesting we drive to Swyers and collect the fencing, paint, salt and so on. Which we will do.

So what?

Consider this: One person, me, has already visited Swyers hardware. Now two more people (me and my pal) will visit Swyers hardware. Making a total of three person-entries into the store.

Instead of having contact with just one person (Howard doesn’t count because I never see him deliver), Swyers has tripled its person-count.

All in the name of reducing opportunities for transmission of a virus between people.

No need to go figure. Stay where you are under the government imposed voluntary self-isolation.

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