I Broke Down in a Dystopian Hell

I just spent 20 minutes in hell.  It was a world I have never seen.  A world I could not have imagined in my lifetime, but there it was…here it is.

I am considered “senior”, therefore, I have ‘special’ hours at Walmart.  Special being 6 a.m.. I understand having it for the first open  hour since the entire store, we are told, was cleaned and disinfected the night before.  I understand that.

I also understand that the number of people allowed in the door at any one time is limited. Ok.  I completely understand the reason and the need.  I understand the need for face masks. I wore mine.  I understand.  I understand the sanitizing wipes.  I understand staying at least 6 feet apart. I understand it all.  It is wise and it is necessary right now.

But those things don’t take into account feelings.  The feelings of fear. The feelings of anxiety. the feelings of isolation.  All those things, and so much more, accompanied me into that place.

The sky was not quite light as I sat in my car and put on my mask. I made my way toward the door only to stand in a line with about 30 people ahead of me.  We all stayed the recommended 6 feet apart.  No one spoke except as we approached the line, a man spoke to me saying “This isn’t Kansas anymore”.  No, it certainly isn’t.

I was in line outside the door for less than 10 minutes. Fortunately, the weather was pleasant.  I could only imagine if it were raining or snowing.

There we all stood, masks in place, looking at our feet or absently glancing around the parking lot, but not interacting at all.  As each of us reached the door, we stopped.  The employee at the door then waved us in as she counted.  In turn, we gained our buggy, some grabbing a sanitizing wipe first and wiping the handle, others grabbing the buggy THEN the wipe..after all, we aren’t used to this process.  The next person was not waved through the door until the one before had wiped down his or her buggy and entered the store.

Once in the store, it was quiet except for the sound system.  They played a song, then a public service announcement on staying 6 feet apart, sanitizing our buggy, washing our hands, etc., then another song.  No one spoke to each other.  There were no smiles behind those masks.  There were no greetings.  There was no community.

I went to the store at that time for 3 items. I hadn’t been to the store in 2 weeks and, to be honest, hadn’t wanted to go then, but there were a couple of things I needed to pick up and 1 I simply wanted.  I wanted it because I felt it was necessary for my peace of mind. I came away with 1 thing.  The other 2 were nowhere to be found.

My mistake?  I picked up 2 of the item I was able to find.  I went to the checkout only to be told by an apologetic young man that there was a limit.  He took the second from my cart.  I told him I understood.  I did.  But it hit me hard.

I barely made it to my car before I broke down.  I ripped the mask from my face and started to cry.  Finally, I looked up to see someone in the car facing me in another space. I’m sure they witnessed my meltdown.  Another time I would have imagined them wondering what was wrong. Now, however, I would guess they knew.

I wanted to buy what I needed of that item to last until the next ‘senior’ day.  I couldn’t.  I wasn’t allowed.  I was wearing a mask and I was one of 40 -50 people ‘allowed’ into the store at that time.  I was also completely isolated.  I understand.

I saw a world I didn’t know. I saw a world I never thought I would see. I saw a world I wasn’t prepared for.  But I understand.

And I understand my breaking down because of how this feels and what it represents.