Today I learned how to be a criminal.

In the universe, (cuz we don’t always talk about the universe), the energy of the moon and Mercury will shift and bring goodness and light to everyone.

I sure as hell hope so, and I want those planets and celestial bodies who f’d up the world to be ashamed of themselves.

In the US, Gene Simmons of Kiss is charging $50 to smell his fingers. I kid you not. So, is Gwyneth Paltrow now going to charge for someone to smell a ‘part’ of her?

In Indonesia, they are locking up quarantine breakers in haunted houses. Now, this may be the best idea yet, but here in Canada, we don’t lock up criminals a lot these days for real crimes, so I don’t see the haunted house thing coming to a local town soon.

But that leads me to being a criminal. I didn’t plan on learning to be one today, but the world we live in made me.

See, we had run out of wine, which would not normally be a big deal, but with all that’s going on, yeah, it’s a BIG deal. So, I ordered some white wine from Everything Wine. The store is shuttered, but they still do pick-ups.

But getting the wine was like doing a drug deal. We met across a table that had been placed outside.

I had to leave the money in a bag to be inspected, then they’d leave the booze after taking the money. We all stood about 10 feet apart, and if this was the States, I’m pretty sure we would have been armed. With machine guns.

Being Canadians, though, we were only armed with our quick wits, which I, fortunately, didn’t have to use. I got my wine, we both backed up, me to my car, them back into the store, then I drove off.

I’m pretty sure I could do a proper drug deal now.

Then I had to get some personal items for my Great Baba (age 96). However, she lives in a residential retirement home, which a few months ago was a pretty nice place to visit.

Now, however, it’s like a prison.

When I arrived, the gate was closed. I guess that makes sense since there are some pretty shady people wandering around, so I pulled up to the speaker and pressed the button. “My name is Joe, and I’m here to see (Baba).”

The speaker crackled back: “Sheee meee baaaboo bee?”

“Wait, I can’t understand you. I. Am. Here. To. See. Baba.”

“Errrr ack unnershann greee noooom.”

I could see this would get me nowhere. So, I phoned.

They picked up after an overly lengthy message about all they were doing for the coronavirus, minus the part about the mysterious language they used over the speaker. It didn’t take long for them to understand that I had to drop something off.

The gate opened.

Now, usually, the parking lot is filled with cars, and the tables and benches in the courtyard are occupied by the elderly getting some sun or watching birds or planning who to cut out of their will. Today, nothing. Not even tumbleweeds.

Getting my sanitary wipes, I made my way to the door with my pre-disinfected package. There I was met by a massive guy with a full-on face visor thingee and an N95 mask. “My name is Joe, and I’m here to see (Baba),” I said.

“Sheee meee baaaboo bee?”

Hmmm. Suddenly the encounter at the gate made sense. “Ok, I can’t understand you. I. Am. Here. To. See. Baba.”

“Caaan meb you im bub I’ll tape dahdis toop papa.”

Fine. He wouldn’t let me in but would take the package to baba.

It really was a prison.

I couldn’t really argue, so I gave the guy the package and left. I hadn’t sewn a file into the package or a secret cell phone or anything, so I was pretty sure the hulking guy would get it to her.

As I drove towards the gate, I hit the sensor, and it slowly began to open. Then, seemingly out of the bushes, an old lady not much larger than our Goldendoodle raced towards the open gate.

Ok, ‘raced’ isn’t exactly the right term, but she was working that walker like a jackhammer and charging forward like she was late for bingo. And she was heading right for the open gate.

She was making a break for it.

Jeez!

I didn’t know what to do, so I drove through as fast as I could, and the gate close behind me before the little old lady could make it through. I didn’t look back for fear she would give me the grandmother-guilt look, and I’d feel super bad about not letting her escape.

When I got home, I told The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World about it, and she said, yeah, they make breaks all the time. Even before the whole shut down thing. The only difference is now they get 14 days in their room.

Apparently, one got out and was found at her favourite restaurant, while another, they say, just a rumor mind you, but they say she went to find out if the Pacific was a blue as in her dreams.

I think when I get that old, I’ll be one of those folks making a break for it. Unless there’s pudding, then I’m staying for the pudding.

So, until tomorrow, be safe, be healthy, and respect the new world.