Monday, March 16th, 2020 4:00 pm

Monday, March 16th, 2020

4:00 pm

I walked into what I expected—a meeting due to the pandemic. I was scared I’d missed it with being gone last weekend.

This is a new lesson to myself and other fellow American idiots: never travel when you know there’s the start of a pandemic.

We all knew it was coming, though. I’m just lucky I’d been hiking out in the mountains and woods of northern Maine, so my probability of having contact with people with it was far slighter than even here, in southern New Hampshire. When I finally had cell coverage, I saw it on every social media platform my gen-z ass has.

The USA has declared a National Emergency for COVID-19

Uneasy frustration fills me, knowing we could have reacted far sooner back in January, but it also feels contradictory due to having just been out of state less than a day ago.

Thank heavens, I smoked that bowl clean before coming in here.

Ma, Brice, and Pence stand together at the bar with Max, Sierra, and Dennis, not too far down from them.

Dennis is one of the newest employees to join the work crew. He started about a month ago and was originally in the kitchen. About the last week or so, though, he’s been trying to build his way into the bartending scene and not spending as much time on the kitchen shifts. It’s a loss not having him in there as much cause he’s probably the nicest out of all the people we’ve had in and out of here this year.

Rudy stands in the front of the bar, with the owner (aka my boss), Lyle, next to him.

“Hey, Cher made it!” My boss, Lyle, shouts enthusiastically and double-points my way.

I smile and mark my entrance with my usual “peace” sign.

My boss chuckles and signs some good old peace back my way.

“Okay, everyone!” He says, louder this time. Everyone quiets down, and I head over to stand next to Ma.

“As you have heard, the country has declared a National Emergency. Regulations have started throughout the state, so we must take precautions and follow through with them to the closest extent possible."

“So we are staying open, though? Just not dine-ins or the bar?” Ma questions.

“Yes,” Lyle answers, looking down to the ground yet still pointing in Ma’s direction. “Pick-ups and deliveries only. All drivers are required to wear masks too, as well as people working the front.”

Lyle looks up from his gaze on the ground and sets his eyes my way.

Yup.

I know, bud.

“I’m sorry, guys. I know it’s been hot here and steaming up like a strip club,” he giggles, “but precautions are precautions. It’s a pandemic, and we want everyone to be as safe as possible. So... yeah.” He changes his direction to the bar workers. “Sorry, guys, but I don’t have any work to offer you right now. Give it a couple of weeks,” he shrugs, “and maybe I can find some people who’d want to come pay to party. Quietly though. Like a secret party.” He finishes trying to calm them with the usual giggle to bring some ease and hope. Max and Sierra huff in annoyance while Dennis nods slowly, his eyes filled with endless questions, but his voice is sadly silent.

“So, everyone here fully understands what’s going on?” Lyle asks, looking around the room at each of us.

“Yup,” Matt replies. “I’m going to be broke off my ass. That’s what I’m getting from this.” He huffs and looks down at his giant ass Ipad.

“Don’t worry, Matt. Like I said, you’ll be back and working as soon as we can.” Lyle says, attempting to reassure the bar crew for the third time.

I understand Matt, though.

I’m pretty damn lucky my job counts as essential.

“So.. as we all can see, this COVID-19 thing is getting in the way of quite a few businesses, not just ourselves. Almost every bar in the area is shut down now, guys. So we must also acknowledge that it’s not just ourselves being affected by this. As I said before, I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s state regulation, it’s a fucking pandemic, and I don’t have the money to pay you guys if the business isn’t running. Don’t worry; I heard the president will send money for people, so..” He clasps his hands like an Oliver Twist prayer stance, but his hands are circular. “Let’s just hope our buddy follows through with it.”

Dear heavens

I forgot he was a lover of Trump.

There’s always some downfall to each citizen of this big ass country we live in.

He continues with the same repetitive answers to the continuous questions of the staff crew, even though we all already know the answers, yet we can’t get ourselves to accept them. I stayed quiet most of it, just listening to the other’s comments and waiting for the meeting to be adjourned. Once everyone agreed with reality, the kitchen staff headed to our usual stances on the left side of the building. At the same time, the bartenders murmur their complaints to themselves while getting ready to head out the door and drive to their new state of quarantine for the next seven days or so.

It wasn’t a surprise to me, to be honest. I knew we’d go into our country’s lockdown sometime soon. For Christ's sake, multiple countries have been in it for quite some time.

We should have changed our anthem to American Idiot a pretty long time ago

Ring. Ring.

Back to reality.

“Hello, Sampson’s.”

“Delivery, please?”

Eh, the Tange Drive crew.

As you know, every business has continuous weekly to daily customers, whether it be the walk-ins, the pick-up crowd, the deliveries, or simply just the same Dashers coming in to get and deliver their orders. As for the Tange Drive orders, a fifty to sixty-year-old man almost invariably called in. When I started working here, I had many different forms of experience within the serving industry and customer service. Still, the one thing I’d never done was work somewhere where I took phone orders, even for deliveries. It gives you a new perspective when working with the customers. You can’t see the expressions they’re giving you as a way to try and take a guess as to whether they’re going to be nice or not. All you hear are their voices when over the phone. Like, you have to learn the different tones of each person over time and use that instead of facial expressions. That’s what brings the benefits of continuing customers and understanding what you’re fucking dealing with, and man, some of them fucking immature bitches, dicks, freaks, and creeps. I’m starting to feel I know what to expect with this one. He’s been the one to order in the most out of all the old hoodlum pedos on that street. He’s got this way about how he talks. I’m unsure how to describe it, but it’s just not a comforting voice. His choice of food to order always consists of the same items every time, too. The same three sandwiches, made precisely the same way each time, and the same fucking drinks.

Diet Coke, Dr. Pepper, and Raspberry Iced Tea.

I try to get his order in as quickly as possible to cut back on the time I have to talk to the man. I’ll admit, I do feel bad when doing this to customers, but there comes a point in every person's patience to how much they’re willing to let people treat them like a stupid piece of shit or an instantaneous circumstance to get some sexual chemistry or flirting in, just due to my fucking gender.

I swear, it’s the three main expectations of blonde women by society

That we’re either stupid

That we’re a bitch

Or that we’re their bitch

Even though they can’t always see me, you know they can tell. Whenever the pick-up order people who had been shits on the phone walk in, they always roll their eyes like they should have known I’d be “that bitch”. It gets frustrating after a while cause due to my looks, I’m “that bitch” in their books, but they become “that bitch” in my book because I don’t vibe with the shitty way they treat myself, fellow essential workers, and to be honest, probably many other people in their lives.

It starts to make you want to be “that bitch” to them in the end

“Okay, about around 45 minutes to an hour to get to you there. Have a good night there.” I say, far more sweetly than I mean.

“Wait a minute!” He quickly exclaims.

“Yes?”

“I have a question..”

“Yes?”

“Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

See

Told you

“Um… I mean, no, but I’m not looking for anything either.”

“I mean,” he chuckles, “I’ve been getting some feelings for you all this time, even though we’re just talking on the phone. I can tell by your voice that you smoke weed, and I think it’d be nice if we could go on a date sometime and smoke together.”

He can tell I’m a stoner just over the phone?

Well shit

I guess I haven’t been covering that up as well as I thought I was

I customer service fake ass giggle so that I don’t swear at this shit face.

“Like I said, I’m just not looking for anything now. Sorry!”

For fucks sake, Cher, stop saying “sorry” to these dick brains

“Oh, okay..” He stays silent for a bit. “Just thought we’d have a good time together?”

“Sorry, sir. Like I said before, I'm just not looking for anything now. Have a good night there, though.”

I instantly hung up the phone, not even giving the guy a chance to speak again.

God damns, I can really be a bitch sometimes.

“Enough with that shit,” I whisper to myself. I do that a lot, actually. Not that we don’t all talk to ourselves every once in a while. It’s the whisper part that I find annoying. My family used to joke and call me Brick from The Middle. It's one of that kid's main traits; I do it in public and off the screen.

The small amount of things Hollywood has actually been accurate with about us humans

“Hey.” I hear come from behind me. I turn around and see Ashley, another new coworker, walk in. She’s layered in jackets on top, with her tattooed-up legs showing off under a pair of tights and a cute af skirt. She carries an energy drink in one hand while the other rests on her Nintendo Switch with her Animal Crossing family lighting up the screen. “I’m exhausted again, so I made sure to bring extra this time,” she says while sitting down and unloading two more Red Bulls out of her bag. “Aww, Ash,” I reply, walking toward her. “Still not sleeping?” I absolutely love the girl but also feel very bad for her at the same time, as cynical as it might sound. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I instantly felt comfortable around her. We bonded quite a bit over hobbies, plus I feel fortunate to finally have a woman like myself next to me and not a man. “No, I am sleeping.” She replies while rubbing her eyes. “That’s the thing, though. I’m just always fucking tired, no matter what. I went to the doctors, and they still don’t even know. Their only answer for me was that it wasn’t Covid-19.”

Covid-19..

I feel like we’re going to get used to that

Ring. Ring.

Of fucking course, it’d be rn.

“Do I have a delivery yet?” Ashley asks, the ring of the phone repeating itself in the background. “Yeah, there’s a few already,” I reply, handing her the tickets for the orders already here before my shift starts. “I’m gonna send Ed on this one, though,” I say, holding up the order for Tange Dr. “The dude’s shit, and I’m not letting you have to deal with him.”

I finally answer the phone.

I see Ashley heading towards the kitchen while blowing kisses my way.

Fucking love her.

I take the order.

Hang up.

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.