Wants and Needs Amid COVID-19
As I’m sure many of us are doing amid the novel Coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic, I find myself scrutinizing two things almost constantly — my own attitudes and behaviors, and the behaviors of others.
I cringe at news reports of people who dismiss the very real dangers of COVID-19, and react with disgust at elected officials who claim it’s a politically motivated hoax.
While I feel like I’ve been mostly cautious, I’ve been lazy at times. I kick myself, because I know of at least three people in my orbit who are immune-deficient or otherwise at risk of dying from this disease. Does that have to happen before I take this as seriously as I should?
I have made several trips to stores and coffee shops for things that are only “wants,” as opposed to true “needs.” I rationalize that I’m supporting local businesses. I say things like, “Well, I’m already here at Wegmans for things I need, so I might as well pick up some beer and ice cream.”
Wegmans, of course, is the mega-popular grocery store famous for its best business practices and, unfortunately (in DeWitt anyway), as the preferred store of many horrendously inconsiderate and rude customers. It is a good place to observe human behavior, albeit among a limited demographic.
The DeWitt store yesterday had an odd vibe, a mix of “business as usual” and “this is not normal.” It wasn’t deserted by any means, and I didn’t detect a pervasive effort to practice social distancing. It could have passed for a typical Thursday morning, if not for the occasional customer wearing a face mask and/or gloves, and the signs pointing out sanitizing measures on shopping cart handles and checkout lane surfaces.
I needed just a few items, so I used a basket — unlike two days earlier, Tuesday, when I needed to buy essentials including toilet paper. That day, an interesting thing happened in my brain as I pushed my cart through the store, in no hurry at first.
I had planned to get the toilet paper last, as it’s at the far end of the store. But I kept seeing shoppers with 8-packs of TP in their carts and my heart rate increased slightly, which made me feel somewhat ridiculous and more concerned than I wanted to be over toilet paper. So I bypassed (and of course forgot to go back for) one of my “wants,” flavored seltzer water, a classic First World purchase. I made a beeline for the TP.
There wasn’t much left, but everyone seemed to be abiding by the “Maximum 2” policy. I grabbed one 8-pack. Then I paused and grabbed a second. It felt wrong then, and it felt very wrong the next day, when a friend who went to Wegmans later that evening said they were out of TP.
More rationalization. Someone else surely would have grabbed the second one I took, so it really didn’t matter . . .
Yesterday’s trip to Wegmans?
I didn’t bother to check the TP shelves. I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
