Tucking the mask in her pocket, Sam went to the front door, put on her blue winter jacket, slipped on her waterproof boots, and grabbed her purse. She covered her mouth and nose with the mask and secured the strings behind her ears. Her long black hair fell back down and framed her face. A quick look at herself in the full-length hallway mirror to make sure everything was in its proper place, and she was out the door.
* * *
“Hello, Chester,” Samantha said.
Chester looked up from behind the concierge desk. It appeared to Sam that Chester was busy instructing the young concierge in some aspect of his job.
“Oh, Samantha. I barely recognized you in that thing. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. Off to the store to get a few things. Pretty crazy, this whole thing.”
Samantha gestured to the lobby tv where CNN was playing on mute.
Chester looked up at the tv and back at Samantha.
“Ah yes,” he said, “be careful out there. If you and Jason need anything, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
“Thank you, Chester. We will.”
The mask blocked her smile as she turned and exited the lobby onto the street. People were hurrying up and down the grey sidewalk. Some were also wearing masks. Samantha joined the crowd and headed toward the pharmacy.
“Ow!” Sam shouted suddenly. Pain stabbed her as the impact of the offending pedestrian spun her almost a hundred and eighty degrees. Her shoulder throbbed where the stranger had clipped her.
“What the hell!” she called.
The person didn’t acknowledge Sam or the fact that they had almost body-checked her into oblivion.
“Asshole,” Sam cursed.
She rubbed her shoulder and carried on through the crowd.
The pharmacy was a madhouse. There were people everywhere, grabbing as much as they could carry. They filled baskets with hand sanitizer, masks, and anti-bacterial wipes. Others had cleared the isles of canned food and batteries, and one lady had a cart with six toilet paper packages.
What was this lady going to do with seventy-two rolls of toilet paper? Samantha wondered.
She grabbed a basket and pushed her way through the people. There were two small bottles of hand sanitizer left, so she threw those in her basket. She saw only one container of wipes. That went into the basket as well. She also grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small first-aid kit.
Sam walked over to the next aisle and got some multivitamins, echinacea, and a bottle of vitamin C. She peeked around the corner and saw that the toilet paper was dwindling fast. She hurried over, picked up one package of twelve rolls, and stuffed it under her arm.
“Because I’m not a hoarding bitch,” she mumbled to herself.
She walked to the front of the store and began emptying her basket onto the checkout counter. The register beeped as the items rang though.
“Hey!” a voice said behind Sam.
“Hey, lemme buy one of those hand sanitizers off ya, huh?”
The voice belonged to a skinny, middle-aged man who was wearing what looked like a gas mask. His eyes were wild and desperate. He held out a five-dollar bill pinched between two surgical glove covered fingers. The sight of this extra cautious man was both comical and depressing.
“Oh,” Samantha said, “Well, you can just have one. No worries.”
She pulled one of the bottles of hand sanitizer off the checkout and handed it to the man. He reached out and plucked it gingerly from Sam’s palm. He retracted his arm slowly, never taking his eyes from what he coveted.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you,” the man said.
He stared at the bottle almost lovingly. Samantha turned from him to find her other items had been through the checkout and placed in a plastic bag.
“Oh, actually, I brought my own bag,” Samantha said.
“We aren’t accepting those anymore due to the pandemic,” the check-out clerk replied.
Sam shrugged and looked down at the screen that was waiting for her action. Tap or insert your card, it instructed. Sam tapped her card and thanked the cashier. With a quick glance back, Sam noted the man had gone. She ran her fingers through the bag’s handles, picked it up, and left the store.
* * *
“People are fucked,” Jason said. “I mean, five things of toilet paper. How about saving some for someone else? Selfish bitch. And the guy with the gas mask and gloves? What the hell. You’d think we were in a war zone or something.”
Jason took a bite of his dinner.
“It was crazy out there,” Sam replied. “The grocery store was just as bad. People were loading up on as much as they could carry. I got a little wrapped up in the frenzy myself.”
Samantha smiled.
“You know, we have dried pasta and zoodles for the next three months.”
“Thank you for doing that, babe. I guess the stores would’ve been empty by the time I finished work.”
“So, how do you feel about working from home?” Samantha gestured at the room behind her that was already set up as an office. Now the room was complete with a work laptop and various “Intellican” paraphernalia.
“It’s a little weird ’cause I just started, but it’s all good,” Jason said. “At least I’ll have dry feet all day now.”
“At least.” Samantha rolled her eyes.
“What!?” Jason feigned his surprise. “Of course, it’ll be nice being around you all day too. All day, every day…” he joked.
Samantha’s eyes widened, and her bottom lip pushed out in a pout.
“Ah, come on, babe.” He put his arms around Sam and hugged her tight.
“You’ll be sick of me before too long.”
She sank into his embrace and stayed there with her ear pressed against his chest.
“We’re gonna be ok right?” she asked. She nuzzled into him further, and his grip tightened.
“Yeah, we are,” Jason replied. “We’ve got each other.”
Samantha pulled back and planted a kiss on his lips. “You taste like garlic,” she whispered.
“You taste like sex.” Jason smiled
