The degree of stress while shopping has also increased many times over. There's the social strangeness of trying to maintain distance from others and "blocking" an aisle while looking for something and others may not want to pass.
I agree. In more direct cultures I think this would be easier to handle, and thus less stressful: “please move ahead, I need to continue down this aisle and you are blocking the way” is not something your average Islander is ever going to say, no matter how much we mean it. And so we stare idly at the Thai sauces while the lollygagger compares all the brands of chick peas, and then deal itchily with the stares of people who back up behind us.
There’s another weird thing: somehow we seem to be unable to master the art of physical distancing without also enforcing social distancing. Perhaps we take Dr. Heather Morrison’s advice too seriously, and opt not to run the risk of drifting toward each other, across the 2 metre threshold, while chatting (which is not an invalid concern). But I ran into someone at Sobeys last week who I hadn’t seen in two years, and while we said hello to each other, we made it clear that there was to be no chatting, even over the tomato-aisle barrier.
It sounds like your fellow shoppers try to keep six feet apart at all times, which I wish was a more popular concept here. I've gotten passed much closer, and looked at with the expectation that I ought to squeeze past, even though it would bring me closer. I'll concede that duration as well as proximity matter, as a rule of thumb, but your exhalations linger where you stand and sometimes where you shed them as wake, depending on local air flow.
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The degree of stress while
The degree of stress while shopping has also increased many times over. There's the social strangeness of trying to maintain distance from others and "blocking" an aisle while looking for something and others may not want to pass.
I agree. In more direct
I agree. In more direct cultures I think this would be easier to handle, and thus less stressful: “please move ahead, I need to continue down this aisle and you are blocking the way” is not something your average Islander is ever going to say, no matter how much we mean it. And so we stare idly at the Thai sauces while the lollygagger compares all the brands of chick peas, and then deal itchily with the stares of people who back up behind us.
There’s another weird thing: somehow we seem to be unable to master the art of physical distancing without also enforcing social distancing. Perhaps we take Dr. Heather Morrison’s advice too seriously, and opt not to run the risk of drifting toward each other, across the 2 metre threshold, while chatting (which is not an invalid concern). But I ran into someone at Sobeys last week who I hadn’t seen in two years, and while we said hello to each other, we made it clear that there was to be no chatting, even over the tomato-aisle barrier.
It sounds like your fellow
It sounds like your fellow shoppers try to keep six feet apart at all times, which I wish was a more popular concept here. I've gotten passed much closer, and looked at with the expectation that I ought to squeeze past, even though it would bring me closer. I'll concede that duration as well as proximity matter, as a rule of thumb, but your exhalations linger where you stand and sometimes where you shed them as wake, depending on local air flow.
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