The calendar is all jumbled since march 2020. January clearly had days and weeks and so did February. March got twisted and broke into alphabet soup. So far, it is still soup time and it's not tasty. Monday tastes like Tuesday and Wednesday . Thursday and Friday blur together and the weekend has no flavor.
As more people get infected, and we will be forced into more lockdowns, it seems we may be in economic hot water . Some are already floating there. It's possible there will be longer soup lines than the ones in the great depression since people have to stand six feet apart.
If we are lucky and still have gas available, it will be a drive thru soup line.The first thing one will notice is the sign:
no mask, no gloves, no bowl , no service because of limited supplies, order on line. If you are late according to your number you will not be served . If you are too early ,the others in line are allowed to beat you and remove you from the line and you will not be served.
If everything goes well ,You will be greeted by the resident cashier with a permit for open carry. In the clearest voice that a bad outdoor speaker can deliver, the cashier will say,
“Welcome to pandemics express, you are next in line."
“ Did each of you bring a bowl?”
” Here is your day old bread" .
It will be considered fresh by current standards . You definitely want the cashier to be in a good mood because," bang ",you could be history. Hopefully, we will never reach the stage of “solent green is people” at the drive thru. You will be history and be croûtons for someone's soup.
However, with little or no gas then we will have the old fashion soup line. Don't disturb me , if you see me sitting on the sidewalk with a bowl;
One: Your cough might cause a flurry of bullets from ,gun totting ,hungry people in line .
Two: I will be imagining having a lovely soup du jour with a baguette served by an attentive waiter to my left in a sidewalk cafe.
“ Gaston, more wine please.” I will rise my tin cup and make clinking glass sounds as my plastic spoon taps the side of the cup.
Following my lead and breaking character as a secret agent in dark glasses, the beloved cookie tester(aka husband) will open a bottle of water and with flair, pour six inches above the cup.
After taking a sip , I ask him. “what year is the wine?”
Taking a swig himself, he responds,"2020 .The grapes must have lived in interesting times. The wine has an earthy flavor".
“Just like us.", I chime in and slurp the soup He gets back into character and scans for any dangerous possibilities developing. My hero, Agent Smith in sunglasses and curly hair.