Social Distancing

Chapter 8: Buy All the Toilet Paper

"Why am I here?" I muttered to myself.

It's Amy's fault.

I remembered how she got me into this situation with a scowl. Technically, it was also my fault, since I hadn't seen the next steps.

The glass doors shut in front of me and cast back a reflection of my entire self. I looked as I always did, messy hair, casual t-shirt and jeans, and comfortable, extra supportive tennis shoes. I wore the perfect attire for being on my feet all the time in the lab. But then I reminded myself of the obvious fact.

But this isn't for the lab.

I wasn't stupid in the sense that I thought I could wear my normal, sloppy clothes on a date. But it was until now that I had any reasons to wear anything else. But I hadn't realized until this afternoon after Noah texted me the address for tonight that they were probably not appropriate.

I also hadn't realized how strong my desire to impress him was, let him know that I appreciated how important he was to me, until I stood outside a women's clothing store with absolutely no clue what I should do.

Fortunately, for my awkwardness, the shopping center was scattered with only a few shoppers, and this particular store was completely empty. Brittains had already focused their shopping in supermarkets and pharmacies. During my bus ride to and from work and on our evening runs, small lines were beginning to form. Yet for the most part, general society still seemed to be civil and calm. This country, along with the rest of the UK, still sat in a watching and waiting mode.

There was particular interest in what happened in the United States and Italy, since their COVID-19 statuses appeared to be one-to-two weeks' time ahead of here. Brittains at universities like UCL were still on holiday, including the ski resorts in Italy, and most had not cancelled those plans. Pubs and restaurants were still open.

Adam came by my desk this afternoon and showed me news footage of Americans as they the stores within the States. There were a lot of news feeds that showed long lines and completely emptied shelves. Seeing everything on Adam's phone made me simply shake my head. Ironically, I couldn't think of a worse practice, putting hundreds of people within close physical proximity to each other, without protective masks or gloves.

There, unlike here -yet- panic and anxiety were clearly displayed on people's faces. They bought up everything like they stocked up for a natural disaster, particularly bottled water, toilet paper, alcohol, and gun ammunition. Toilet paper and non-perishables I understood. The virus was airborne, it didn't pass through the water supply, so the bottled water didn't make sense.  Adam was particularly interested in the guns and ammunition and left disappointed with my vague explanation that Americans loved their guns. That choice seemed a bad mix with the alcohol but people most likely weren't being rational.

At this point you might have asked me why I also wasn't in a supermarket line, buying up toilet paper in advance of the shift in culture that most likely came tomorrow. Dr. McKenna had informed us that under no circumstances would we stop working and the cafeteria remained open for us. Only our entrance procedures had changed, which included a near full shower in disinfectants and change of clothes on the premises.

After being at the lab for twelve hours a day, I didn't spend much time in my apartment bathroom anymore anyways. So instead, my preparations involved simply being sent home with boxes of gloves and lab masks.

Our Seattle samples were schedule to arrive at the lab in two days. Tomorrow COVID-19 would be declared pandemic by WHO. We now all worked twelve-hour shifts, seven days a week. But it felt like we were running out of time with the problem's solution still a finger's grasp away.