Sunday, March 29, 2020

The communal lemon has returned. In deference to the current crises, whoever put it out in the office kitchen has done it differently today. It’s already been sliced. The pieces are laid out on a paper plate, with a toothpick in each. Near it on the counter, larger plates hold three different kinds of cookies and a homemade Nutella cake. A message on the office WhatsApp channel shows a photo of the cookies and the caption “In honor of these difficult times.” The cookies and cake disappear quickly. At the end of the day, most of the lemon slices remain. Our tea drinkers are not coming in. On the way home, I see few people on the road. More joggers than usual trot past me, alone or in carefully distanced packs. I stop into the produce shop again to buy some apples. The worker, probably the owner, finishes sweeping up as I approach the counter. He strips off and discards the gloves that he had been wearing and puts on another pair. After ringing me up and taking my cash, he strips off and discards those gloves. I don’t see whether he immediately puts on a third pair. When I get home, I see my bag of laundry sitting outside, right where I had left it in the morning. I wonder whether the delivery person had forgotten the pickup. It has happened before. Looking more closely, though, I see that the clothes are neatly folded and there’s a receipt on the outside. It usually takes three or four days to get my laundry back. This time, they have cleaned and returned it the same day. Without walk-up and drop-off business, they were able to get my clothes done quickly. That’s good news for me, but not for them. I remind myself again of how lucky I am right now, and that many others are not.