Boy In A Dress accompanied my better-half for the weekly-shopping this Friday evening -this due to the fact that
that most folk get their groceries on a morning or at least, the afternoon.
There was a strange sight at the check-outs that is a perfect example of how we're being bamboozled by the
media and politicians, namely perspex screens.
The see-through plastic barriers weren't there last Friday night and I contemplated what it all meant.
The Store Manager spoke to his superiors who confirmed that protective screens were being delivered during
the week and the supposed virus had no concept of what a store, the station of Manager and what plastic is.
Frank -the truck driver from the depot, watched the consignment being loaded into his vehicle and after signing
the necessary paperwork, clambered into his cab. To the supposed virus, such machinery was unknown and
unwanted.
The Store's Maintenance man is called Jim and after checking his break-time was over, hauled the five designated
screens out of the truck and placed them in the corner of the warehouse. When the Store closed at 8.00.pm, Jim
began to install the transparent safeguards.
The supposed virus continued to do the only thing it had ever done and sought the correct conditions to survive.
Time means nothing to it, whether urgent or lax. The reality of surfaces is out of its grasp because its own existence
is based on merely continuance and not on ideal conditions.
It doesn't dream, ponder or understand the concept of hope. The gamut of what we do to fight the virus doesn't
thwart or intimidate it and winning this situation -or losing it, isn't a race it can appreciate.
Yet, we're the top-dog and with our minds, seek to stop something that doesn't even know we are here.
Anyway, there wasn't a queue.
that most folk get their groceries on a morning or at least, the afternoon.
There was a strange sight at the check-outs that is a perfect example of how we're being bamboozled by the
media and politicians, namely perspex screens.
The see-through plastic barriers weren't there last Friday night and I contemplated what it all meant.
The Store Manager spoke to his superiors who confirmed that protective screens were being delivered during
the week and the supposed virus had no concept of what a store, the station of Manager and what plastic is.
Frank -the truck driver from the depot, watched the consignment being loaded into his vehicle and after signing
the necessary paperwork, clambered into his cab. To the supposed virus, such machinery was unknown and
unwanted.
The Store's Maintenance man is called Jim and after checking his break-time was over, hauled the five designated
screens out of the truck and placed them in the corner of the warehouse. When the Store closed at 8.00.pm, Jim
began to install the transparent safeguards.
The supposed virus continued to do the only thing it had ever done and sought the correct conditions to survive.
Time means nothing to it, whether urgent or lax. The reality of surfaces is out of its grasp because its own existence
is based on merely continuance and not on ideal conditions.
It doesn't dream, ponder or understand the concept of hope. The gamut of what we do to fight the virus doesn't
thwart or intimidate it and winning this situation -or losing it, isn't a race it can appreciate.
Yet, we're the top-dog and with our minds, seek to stop something that doesn't even know we are here.
Anyway, there wasn't a queue.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.