Honey Vinegar? Or Plain?

Dear Virtual Readers,

I start with such a formal greeting because the state of our existence is a shit storm of informality. I've been silent for months because . . . because my muse took the social distancing thing to heart and the six-foot rule was thrown out the window. Muse was like, I'm out, fuck you and your shitty weblog. So at this point, I can't tell if this is all me or my muse is shadowing waiting for an accurate test for the COVID.

Here's the thing, I agree and follow all social distancing rules and self-isolation suggestions from the health care professionals. I get it. I agree.

To a point.

I don't want to contract the COVID and I don't want anyone else to contract the COVID either. It's a wicked bastard of a virus. Yes? And to be clear the capitalization of the word COVID is because of the word program I use. Damn you my muse!

So let's reflect on the shit that has happened in the last three months that I have been silent, in my writing, if not in my actual existence. I will be brief. A shitty virus was unleashed upon the world. So? Well, the powers that be and the medical experts gave us a set of guidelines that should curtail this bitch of a virus. It's fairly simple, right? Social distance, wash your hands, six feet, don't swap spit with strangers. I guess the whole glory hole thing is at a standstill? Right?

And masks. Yes, masks. Oh, wait. No masks. Right? Yes, masks. No, masks bad. Right? I no longer know, nor do I think that the powers that be know. So if we truly want to be honest with ourselves and the world, no one knows what the fuck is going on. Stay home, less worry about being infected. Congregate and swap spit with strangers bad. Got it. I got it. Fuck. I got it.

So, full disclosure, this hasn't changed my life one iota. I work in a field that is considered an essential service, so I've been at it this whole time. Going to work and then going straight home is my existence. But I understand the effect this has had on the greater population in my country. That is Canada, by the way. And while we haven't had it as bad as others, the dumpster fire to the south, for example, it's been bad enough.

So let me be clear about what I am about to say. The emphasis is on dying. The emphasis is on fear, and doom, and death and if you don't submit you will die! Dramatic? Maybe. Off the mark? Not really. The province that I live in has a population of 3.5 million people and the death toll from COVID is one hundred and sixty-eight. .000048. That's the death rate percentage from the COVID. Am I saying that we shouldn't head the warnings? Nope. But as free-thinking adults, we should be able to put this shit into perspective. No?

There are a lot of businesses that are begging for business. They want your business. They want you to patronize their establishment. I support this more than you can imagine.

Buy local, support the local guy. Fuck Bezo, fuck Amazon, that shit stain doesn't need your money. Ma and Pa do. Pay a little more to support the people who you rub shoulders with. Support the people who put back into your community. Do it. Rebuild your community as you mean it. Like your life depends on it. Don't trade your morals for a few . . . rubles. Just don't fucking do it.

So this is where my story begins. Because I practice what I preach, I want you to know that I seek out the local business before all others. My brother recently left me with a small task to help him with, not a task even worthy of mention. Glad to help, yada, yada. This task required me to seek out a battery for a laptop that should have been put out to pasture, at least, five years ago. My brother is frugal. So, understanding who he is and an attempt at having him just purchase a laptop that is from the twenty-first century, I agreed to find him a battery.

So, with old battery in hand, I head to a local computer store that should be able to fulfill my need for an ancient computer part. Easy, right?

Do you feel feverish?

I went to a local computer shop and the flashing sign in the window indicated that the establishment was open for business. The sandwich board sign said line up here. There was no lineup so I approached the door. A small piece of paper was taped to the glass door stating that they would be back in thirty minutes. The time frame here is three-thirty pm on a Friday. I was momentarily confused, not a surprise, as I spend most of my existence this way. A portly gentleman approached the door and opened said door to explain that he was on lunch. I'm guessing a late lunch? He expressed that this would be the case for at least the next fifteen minutes. I responded with, no worries, I have to patronize the liquor store because, why the fuck not. If we are all going to die might as well be buzzed. I'll be back!

I did my business because that is what I do. I then head to the said computer store to enact my business and there before me, the portly fellow who was so helpful a mere fifteen minutes previous. A faint odour of onions and ass wafted from his person and he blocked the doorway with an over projected sense of importance.

"Hey man, I need a battery for this outdated laptop that my brother wants to hold onto like the clap." I said.

" Well, I don't stock that particular battery, so it will be a special order." He said.

"No problem, I'll pay for it now and you can go ahead and order it. Yeah?"

Realize at this point, Virtual Readers, that I'm thinking this guy wants my business. I am prepared to stand six feet away, although he is talking to me through the door less than six feet. I am prepared to put on a mask if that is what is required of me. I am willing to do the social things that we all must do in this weird time.

He points to a sign on the door and says." You can send an e-transfer to blah, blah, blah." I ask, puzzled. " Don't you have a debit machine in there?"

He responds. " Yes, but I can't let you in the store." "Why?" I ask, knowing what was coming. "Because of social distancing." He responds. Almost as if he likes this shit.

There is no one else in his store.

"But, I just spent fifty dollars in the liquor store, so . . ." I respond.

"Yes, but they have more than two hundred square feet, so . . ." His ruddy, cherubic cheeks glisten with the grease of some recently murdered animal.

Virtual Readers, I want to tell you that at this point I was sympathetic to the plight of this human, whom for all intents and purposes, was struggling for business. Who looked like he had missed a meal or two. Who, truly looked like they wanted my business and would happily back the fuck up six feet to take my money. Alas, nope.

I have worked through the last three months, every day delivering the "necessities" to people who are struggling for their existence. Maybe? I don't know. But, I've done it because that's my job and I am still drawing a paycheck. This asshat wasn't interested in doing his job to further the business he works for or owns. So be it. There are other computer stores in my city. I'm sure they will be able to help me.

Here's the deal as I see it. The COVID is here to stay and either we learn to work with/around it or close your fucking doors and don't whine about how it killed your business. Adapt, overcome or fuck right off. You aren't special, your business isn't special. We all have to deal with this shit and we all have to be responsible with this asshole virus. So, fuck off.

To be clear, where I live, has no active cases of the COVID and hasn't for weeks. So, yes, be vigil, but don't be a fucking douche. Because regardless of the COVID or not, a fucking douche will lose business every single time.

"Crisis doesn't create character, it reveals it."

AW