risky adventure?

There was a time — not all that long ago — that if I found myself at night, on an unlit street, I was fearful of seeing a masked man.

Now, under sunny skies and well-travelled streets,  I hope only to see masked men (and women too).

But alas I don't.

It looks like about 80% are following the governor's edict to wear a face covering. And the ones that aren't make no attempt to social distance. They just expect everyone else to move aside for them. 

It's a gorgeous, sunny, 63-degree day.  I take a 2.3 mile walk, heading south, to pick up some grocery items. By the time I get to my destination, I'm exhausted, mainly from the hot mask and the effort of dodging other walkers. 

So I make the daring decision to take a bus home. 

The busses are now free — the whole front third is roped off to protect the drivers. 

Starting out, there is me and one other person on the bus. It's easy to maintain a safe distance. 

Then slowly, a few more people come on, and I find myself acting as chief enforcer. 

A woman and child (about 10) enter the bus, and while they sit far from me, both are maskless.  I remind the mom of the governor's face-covering directive. She kindly tells me that she can't find any. I suggest Amazon, and leave it at that. I  don't want to get into a whole conversation about watching the many DIY youtube videos. Nor do I want to mention that I just saw a street vendor on Second Avenue selling them along with jewelry and Russian nesting dolls.

Next, a couple gets on and sit directly across from me, despite the bus being empty. I suggest they move; they do without argument.

I stop at Butterfields on the way home. 

They are only letting six people in at a time. The outside line moves fast; and everyone is respectful of maintaining the proper distance.

I get home. Wipe down all my containers. Disinfect the door knobs, my sunglasses, etc. 

And now I can rest. 

I find being outside totally exhausting.