CORONA-CATION DAY 7: The Hunt

CORONA-CATION DAY 7

I decided to leave the house yesterday.  

I packed up everything that I might need and headed out, full tank of gas, bottle of Peril, down to Home Depot.  I was on a hunt for the most elusive of creatures – the gallon of bleach.

As I headed out, I was determined.  My water system needed Clorox and I was the person to bag it.

I reached Home Depot.  No one there had seen Bleach in days.  It was reported Bleach would show up on March 24, but I could not just “sit around” waiting for Bleach to arrive.  I need to got out and actively look for Bleach.

I arrived at WalMart a little past 11 am.  I had hoped that most people would be lunching at home, or at McDonald’s drive thru.  I was disappointed at the sheer number of people.

I weaved my way back to the cleaning aisle, sticking to the sides of the store where I knew who was at my back.  I strategically turned my head away from every person that tried to cross my path.  I wove and dodged, avoiding all traffic. I managed to reach the bleach display.  There it was, one bottle, one shining white bottle, 

but a woman with her cart stood in front of it, mulling over whether to buy it.  She clearly didn’t need it.  With two in her basket mashed in between the 67 rolls of toilet paper and the 22 roles of Bounty, she had enough and was just being …… a hoarder.

I would have to use my wits and all my courage.  So I did the only thing that I could do.  .....I coughed. It was not overt, but just a short “dry” cough (a wet cough would have tipped her off). Then I coughed again and I moved in for the kill.  It was a narrow aisle, so I would have to pass very close to her to get by.  I coughed and decided to add “shallow breathing” for effect.  The woman looked toward me, and I saw her eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights.

I continued toward her, coughing and wheezing, and decided to add a slight limp for additional affect.  I was starting to look like a zombie or grandmother, either/or. Then her courage broke, like a dam of resignation she traded her health for her desires and she lit out. Like a shot out of a gun, un-socially distancing herself from me and the last bottle of bleach.  I grabbed it and contained my enthusiasm as I worked my way patiently back toward self check out.   Poured some Peril on the keyboard at checkout and made my way back to the sanctity of my car.  I think tomorrow I will go hunting for some muffins. Should be fun.