Six Feet And Counting
I figured out how to convince everyone to observe the rules of social distancing.
As you know, our virus epidemic has prompted our good government to recommend that everyone maintain a distance of six feet from everyone else. With over seven billion people on this planet and most of the surface made of water, I doubt there’s enough room, but I’m willing to give it a shot.
After my bike ride this morning, I stopped in to the grill at Johnson’s Corner. If you have ever raced IRONMAN 70.3 North Carolina then you’ve passed Johnson’s Corner at least two times (maybe not if you took a wrong, but I’m sure that’s never happened to you).
This grill/store is a typical country store that you might find out here: small, narrow paths between the shelves of candy bars, canned goods, refrigerated drinks and fishing tackle. There are a few tables and benches for eating and socializing, but recently those were overturned so no one could sit down due to current epidemic and health orders from the government.
When I walked in I must have been something to stare at. My Spam cycling jersey is kind of bright.
Anyway, there were a few customers inside that must not have gotten the memo about social distancing. They were off to one side, so I didn’t have to deal with them and I wasn’t about to say something. That would just piss them off.
While I was waiting for my hamburgers, I was thinking about this social distancing issue and it suddenly occurred to me that stores in our area are in the midst of a run on toilet paper. Everyone is even making jokes about it.
So here’s the real issue:
in public you have no way of knowing who around you has already run out of toilet paper.
That’s enough to keep me six feet way from anyone… unless she is handing me my bag of burgers.
Even with the smell of hand sanitizer on my hands, those are some of the best burgers in Pender County.