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I was at the grocery store. I was feeling on edge, in a mood at it were. I had a list of to-dos and frankly I really didn’t want to be there on a Saturday morning. I was in the produce department, debating the merits of buying myself a seven-dollar bag of mini-peppers when I saw a young mother, not wearing a mask. It’s interesting, isn’t it, how much people who aren’t wearing masks stand out. They might as well have a beacon shining out of their foreheads or something.
We live in a time when it’s actually weird to see someone’s entire face.
A wave of annoyance and anger welled up inside of me. And I had questions, lots of questions: Why wasn’t she wearing a mask? Why is she exempt? What is it with people!??
This woman’s son was about five years old. He was cute, doing what kids do, alternately hanging on the cart or running up the aisle. Interestingly, he was wearing a mask.
She and I found ourselves in the same aisle in produce. I debated whether I should say anything. Should I say anything? Or leave it? Ultimately, I could not help myself. I felt the words bursting out of my mouth before I knew it: “You forgot your mask.”
The way I see it, I was stating a fact. I may have sounded judgemental or accusatory, and if so, I didn’t mean to. When I really think back to that moment I felt annoyed and angry, as I mentioned, but also strangely hurt by all of this. I don’t like wearing a mask either, but I do. When I’m wearing it I feel gross and sweaty and I can’t wait to rip it off my face the first chance I get. But I continue to wear it because it’s the right thing to do. I’m doing my part, so why aren’t you, lady?
You forgot your mask.
I actually walked by her as I said it, perhaps subconsciously protecting myself from a potential screaming match with an anti-masker. I don’t know, it’s the coward’s way. As I glided by with my cart, I saw her dive into her purse.
“Oh my goodness, you’re right,” she said. She pulled on the mask. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem. It happened to me last week,” I said. And honestly, it did. I popped into a mall over my lunch break and was so spaced out I didn’t even realize I forgot to put it on until I was a dozen or so steps past the doors.
I overheard the young mother whispering to her son. They were standing next to those seven-dollar peppers I was looking at earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t wearing my mask?” she asked him, but I didn’t hear his reply.
