Holed up Ruminations

Tim’s birthday party was a fine affair. His friends came over and decorated the party room in the basement of his apartment building real nice. About 30 people came. Lots of old friends. Lots of food. Lots of laughs.

That was way way back in those carefree days, when people wantonly mingled and hugged. That was two weeks ago. And now I look back on going to that party with the same consternation as if it had been a cocaine–fueled orgy full of unprotected sex. How could I have engaged in such reckless behavior? Will I soon regret it? Ollie was there. I ran into him a few months back at the Bulls game. He works in the stadium ticket booth. Holy shit! That means he comes in contact with a shitload of people! Was Ollie infected with the virus?

And Donna was there. She hugged me hard! Twice! On the way in and on the way out. Donna is a big time hugger so she might have been infected too because I bet huggers like her are among the most susceptible. Ollie and Donna are upstanding citizens who would never knowingly infect anyone, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing. I mean, the virus infected Tom Hanks for fuck’s sake, just to show us all that it will stop at nothing.

There was leftover pizza so I took it home and ate it. Holy shit again! How could I have been so cavalier? How many infected party guests touched that pizza or breathed all over it or sneezed in its vicinity?

But maybe I dodged that bullet because like I said, that was two weeks ago and they say that two weeks is how long it takes for the virus to get you if it’s gonna get you, maybe, so far as we know so far.

But what about the reckless behaviors I’ve engaged in since then? I went to the grocery store. How many infected people did I brush up against there? How many of them touched that can of beans I bought?

I’m not going to the grocery store anymore, but maybe it’s too little too late. Surely the virus hitched a ride into my home somehow. Why should I be any different from all those other poor saps that got infected? There is no God. The fact that Tom Hanks got infected proved that. Maybe I should call in some of those people who will give your home a deep cleaning. But what if they’re infected?

This is the kind of shit you think about when you’re holed up in the dark all day trying to hide from a virus.




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