I read a report today of a Florida man (yes, really) who threatened a mass shooting in a grocery store because many of the people in there were not wearing masks. I can believe it. Negotiating social distance in public spaces can be harrowing.
Last week, when Heidi made a wide arc around three young men walking toward her as she ran with Lucy, one of the guys yelled, "What would you do if I touched you?
To which my wife replied, "I'd let my dog bite you!"
Well, he did ask.
The next day, we were hiking in a regional park with my sister-in-law and nephews. A fellow hiker was very upset that the guys were standing too close to each other and their mom. He stood by the side of the trail and bellowed at us that we were peeing in the pool. "It's all ruined now," he moaned, as if in physical pain. When another family walked past us in the opposite direction, he shouted that the distance they chose was not six feet. Obviously disturbed, he huffed and groaned and sighed along behind us for some way, until at last he shouted, "Passing! Passing! Clear the trail!" Which we happily did.
And then just tonight our neighbor was out running when she stopped at a traffic light alongside a family of three on their bikes. "That is not 6 feet," the mom scolded her.
"That is not the bike lane," our friend snapped back. "You're on the sidewalk."
It's hard to cut each other slack when we are all wound so tightly. Normally one might recommend taking a deep breath in any of these situations, but these days?
Even that seems dangerous.
Last week, when Heidi made a wide arc around three young men walking toward her as she ran with Lucy, one of the guys yelled, "What would you do if I touched you?
To which my wife replied, "I'd let my dog bite you!"
Well, he did ask.
The next day, we were hiking in a regional park with my sister-in-law and nephews. A fellow hiker was very upset that the guys were standing too close to each other and their mom. He stood by the side of the trail and bellowed at us that we were peeing in the pool. "It's all ruined now," he moaned, as if in physical pain. When another family walked past us in the opposite direction, he shouted that the distance they chose was not six feet. Obviously disturbed, he huffed and groaned and sighed along behind us for some way, until at last he shouted, "Passing! Passing! Clear the trail!" Which we happily did.
And then just tonight our neighbor was out running when she stopped at a traffic light alongside a family of three on their bikes. "That is not 6 feet," the mom scolded her.
"That is not the bike lane," our friend snapped back. "You're on the sidewalk."
It's hard to cut each other slack when we are all wound so tightly. Normally one might recommend taking a deep breath in any of these situations, but these days?
Even that seems dangerous.
You've expressed the overarching sentiment these days perfectly: it sure is hard to cut each other slack when we're wound so tightly. Your ending in clever.
ReplyDeleteIt's a strange experience, to be getting all of the personal time and sleep that we need, but not the usual in-person positive social interactions that we also need. Your use of dialogue had me in the moment!
ReplyDelete(Not quite sure how "Mom" was grabbed from "Teacher Mom Gardener". I meant to put in my first name.)
ReplyDelete