Even though I plan to be out of town for a bit, I needed to get things like cat food and some staples for when I get back (I’m out of bread and milk and eggs). Quite honestly the news on this virus has been all over the place, and I suspect we’ll end up somewhere between mass extinction and a few weeks of significant disruption to normal life. Not knowing what will happen in the next few days to weeks makes it hard to prepare – will stores be open a week from now, will they have food? Hence the mad dash to grocery stores across the country (coupled with the fact that if you end up sick, it’s a two week quarantine). I figured if I went to the store early enough (between 7am and 8am) I’d be able to avoid any rush. Schools are closed here today which means people will not be hunkering down and practicing social distancing. Sure enough, I arrived to a packed parking lot and 7 or 8 checkout lines each 5 or 6 people deep. Lots of shelves were bare – I was going to buy some pork chops or chicken to put in the freezer – all gone. I also wanted to pick up some frozen vegetables – also all gone. As I navigated my cart through aisles strewn with boxes (restocking) and other carts, I was keenly aware of holding on to a cart that has been touched by lots of other people and the urge to scratch my nose, eyes, whatever… I’m not a germaphobe – far from it, but I felt like I needed a disinfectant shower. I washed my hands for at least 20 seconds when I got home, but I’m sure if there was any damage to be done – it was already done. I saw people stocking up on ramen noodles, and yes, almost everybody had toilet paper in their carts. A quick internet search shows that it’s cheaper to blow your nose in toilet paper than it is tissues.
The couple in front of me in line spent $400 on their order. Their card didn’t quite cover it but they had some cash to make up the difference. One of the things I find particularly disturbing is that this whole situation (the virus and the panic) is going to hit poor people so much harder than people of means. Typically, poor people don’t have as many sick days, don’t have reliable childcare, rely on free lunches to feed their kids, have worse healthcare options, don’t have back up savings to spend more on groceries, and are more inclined to panic – because poverty forces you to view the world through a deficit mentality. While money can’t buy happiness, it gives you a lot more options. Poor people also use emergency rooms much more frequently – my friend Lisa is a nurse who often runs the bed board (tracks how many available beds there are in the different hospital emergency rooms). On most nights, Memphis hospitals are full. As of 2018, Memphis ranked as the second poorest city in the country. I walk around this city a lot. Everyday I see people who look to be in pretty poor health – in at least one survey I found (WalletHub), Memphis ranked 170th out of 174 cities on community health indicators. All of this is to say that I don’t know that this city will fare all that well in the current pandemic.