Tuesday, December 22nd, 2020

In a lull at work, I see an emailed announcement of a book that I can’t resist. I order the book from a site in England. An almost immediate automated response says that they won’t be able to send it for a while. As of today, all shipping from England to here has been shut down due to the new virus mutation. At least they sent me the ebook as a freebie. Downstairs in the supermarket, another customer asks me something. I think it’s about the container of yogurt he’s holding. I can tell he’s speaking Hebrew, but his unfamiliar accent makes it completely unintelligible. I end up in the checkout line behind him. He answers his phone in English. He’s from somewhere in the southern US, with a drawl so thick that he could probably talk to alligators. Had I known that, I probably could have understood and helped him. After work, in the pizzeria on the city square, a woman raises a ruckus about something in her order. People scurry around behind the counter. I wait. When they finally get to me, I just want one of the slices of sicilian pizza that’s on display. After all that hassle, they seem thrown off balance by an order that’s so easy. The cashier blanks on how to ring up a single slice. Another worker explains it to him in English. They put the slice on the cardboard carrier facing the wrong way. I have to do some tricky juggling until I find a free table and sit down.