12/24/2021
Chickpeas on Xmas eve: When it’s -18 Celsius out and it’s the age of Omicron, you dress like you’re going into a war zone when stepping out to grab some chickpeas. Double masked, touque, thick gloves, winter boots, and of course, the 20 Kilo Parka. Enter the grocery store parking lot and it’s a pandemonium. People, who only apparently shop on Christmas Eve for the year, are fighting over parking spots that are unavailable. Many cars are lined by the sidewalks with their hazard lights on. Somehow, you find a parking spot, and waddle indoors where you truly understand the meaning of stampede. (I haven’t seen so many people together since before 2020.)
You momentarily think of reversing your steps and run home, but you also contemplate on all the effort it took for you to get to that point and moment in time. You elect to press forward and persevere. You need those chickpeas. You swiftly navigate through the maddening masked sea of strangers executing your best ninja moves. Beads of sweat start forming under your toque, and you resist the urge of removing it. A few more steps to the chickpea aisle and you’re golden. But …
… you forget that you’re now in the Covid era in which you never go to the grocery store and you’ve forgotten where everything sits. You look around with a lost gaze that may look familiar to those who’ve seen lost children in crowded places. You slow your pace, rip your sweaty toque off, and read all the aisle signs until you see what you are looking for. Ah the glorious International Foods. Why are chickpeas International Foods btw? Meh, you don’t have time to deliberate on that. You rush to the aisle and grab your packet of chickpeas like you’ve just looted a bank, and run to the checkout.
Check out. Hmm. Carts full of food. Hearts full of love. Tis’ the Xmas spirit. The spring in your step dies down as you submit to your surroundings and stand dutifully in a line that winds around many corners with a frown beneath the double masks that you’re also profusely sweating under. This is where I am typing this from. Standing in the line. As I wait for the cashier to push us all Xmas Eve idiots through. The couple in front of me have two carts. Loaded up. Cashier asks them, “Big party tonight, eh?” “No,” they respond, “We are going over to friends. This is for later.” You listen … quietly … glad that your expressions beneath the mask are hidden from the world.
Alright, I’m now checked out and in the car. Masks are off. Touque is thrown away. Gloves are off. I’m ready for home and a shower. These chickpeas better taste good!!!! 😃
Merry Xmas Eve, y’all!!! :)))
