12.05.2020 Day 60 of self isolation and we've run out of coffee and tea! 😱

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Tuesday 12th 36F, bright but rather cloudy. I risked hypothermia on a brisk walk to the lanes. Every time the wind blew it went from "a bit chilly" to "downright freezing!" I even had to put my hands in my pockets despite fears of arrest for loitering in a pandemic. A filthy Volvo 4x4 gave me the close brushoff. He was wearing dark glasses so I bet he brags he came a close 7th in the Paris-Dakar as his explanation for the muddy exterior.

We have run out of "my" instant coffee. Apart from missing two, pleasing cups from my morning routine, that puts a further burden on our limited, Twining's, organic, tea bag supply. Which we now have to buy from a distant shop, online. Simply because there is no delivery service from any of the supermarkets which stock either product. They have a branch in every village but are too idle to provide a home delivery service? What's the matter with them?

I didn't dare take the last spoonful of "Her" organic coffee in case she had run out too. The Head Gardener was still in bed with the dreaded "Here Be Dragons" sign ominously lit. Should I risk a tentative audience at the likely cost of a roasting?  Better not go there!  

What to do then? Should I be waiting, beside my patient trike, outside the supermarket as it opens. In the, perhaps, vain hope that nobody else has the same idea? Should I wear one of my "slightly soiled" woodworking dust masks? What about my wrap around, yellow safety glasses? Usually reserved for overcast weather on trike rides. I'm extremely cynical about cyclists wearing dark glasses in overcast conditions. So have to avoid the burden of extreme hypocrisy by doing so myself.

Should I use up my last pair of disposable gloves? The only ones which are strong enough to actually survive putting them onto my over-generously sized hands. What about my old, zip up, lightweight, waterproof jacket to discard into the laundry system [or the shed] on my return? That would make a passable, nominally disposable, hazard suit.

OMG! I could be refused service for covering my face! My beard and hair have grown extremely long in only two months. They might think I'm one of those copycat, American Hipster [neo-terrorists] with a "carry permit" for a beard comb!

Should I pray that the supermarket's routinely sloppy, stock ordering system will actually provide some shelf space of their "own label" jars of organic coffee? Without my having to bother the staff. Who will trot out their endlessly rehearsed, parrot routine: "It didn't arrive on the lorry." Ironically, it is the only instant coffee I have found so far which doesn't actually reek like a wet, months old, unemptied, pub ashtray!

What then? Should I grab some of the other stuff we haven't enjoyed for two months now? Does the risk increase the longer the time I spend there? Does my chance of dying statistically increase the more items I put in the basket? More importantly: How will I cope with my first try at social distancing? Are you allowed to retake the virus test if you fail on the first go?

OMG! Will the contactless card reader actually work this time? It was completely routine for manual button entry to be demanded prior to the outbreak.  My hunch was that the banks and supermarkets were in collusion. That they have an algorithm to penalize only older people who buy mostly organic produce.

Or to get back at daft old buggers, like me, who insist on carrying a supermarket wire basket. [For the exercise!] Instead of leaning, panting like a fat, pregnant drunk, over the handle of an overloaded, supermarket "pram" full of unhealthy crap and extra toilet rolls.

Will I be marked as a hoarder if I buy two jars of coffee? What do they do if you are blacklisted? Paint a cross on your forehead with 60% alcohol, hand wash? Talking of which we ordered some Palmolive hand wash from the home delivery supermarket. Thinking it would be milder on the acute dermatitis from prolific hand hygiene . This new stuff stank strongly of some hideous and unrecognizable perfume industrial scent remeniscent of the stuff they mix with the pig's poo around here. So that we should have worn hazard suits and respirators just to open the dispensing bottle! Well,  now we are just going have to use it to deter our neighbour's stray cats. Which frequently visit our garden without a signed permit from THG.

But I digress: Do, as I suspect, the checkout staff have a secret, hidden button marked "REVENGE!" Which refuses the card on the contactless reader while you are in mid-flight of hurriedly loading all your purchased goods into your very own, and extremely grubby, cloth, shopping bag.

Or worse, you have filched one of their near-empty boxes from the fizzy, sugar bomb, drinks display. For the arduous and potentially dangerous carry out to the trike's patented, 40 liter "Overboard," duffel-saddle bag. Or [heaven forbid] to the rusting car boot with the broken lock. So I have to manually open the driver's door to release the boot latch. All the while balancing the cardboard tray on my head. To leave the necessary pair of hands free required for such tasks.

The passenger's door lock doesn't work either. Getting it all fixed would easily exceed the market value of the car. Besides, I'm still waiting for my free, electric runabout "to save the world." I wonder if they come with a tow hook? That would be handy for the run to the recycling station. To illegally congregate amongst the 24x7, gardening detritus.

[Meanwhile, back inside the shop:] So you have to manually enter your pin code. Instead of just waving your card safely and hygienically over the machine. Thereby causing a breakdown in the deliberately orchestrated, endless queuing system. Because you have already put your card safely away! This despite having shopped there for 25 years and and always maintaining a safe balance in the bank account.

They should recognize me, by now, but you never see the same pre-pubescent face behind the checkouts. At last, not twice running. My own [educated] guess would be that the checkout operators are abducted from the junior school next door. Then human trafficked onto a fast track course in dealing with elderly customer disobedience.

Could I posthumously sue them for unhygienic payment conditions if I die? So many questions. So little time! And we are out of coffee!!!  😱

False alarm! Having arisen, THG informed me that She had a jar of "my" coffee hidden in her secret [emergency] hoard. She was terrified the Anti-hoarders Thought Police would call round unexpectedly. So had hidden it well out of sight. Now I am torn between "grassing her up." Or being suitably grateful for further rations. However humiliating that might be. Anything to ward off the risk of a trip to that particular supermarket. Well, we don't want to encourage them! Do we?

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