Masked

Thanks to COVID, masks are now required pretty much everywhere. As I sat in my doctor’s office for a well-woman check, sitting on a long sheet of tissue with nothing but a paper gown covering the lower half of my body, the thought that runs through my mind is: Covering my face while exposing my nether regions is a completely new experience for me…I would prefer the other way around. Ditto for when I had my mammogram.

While their effectiveness is definitely up for debate, I cannot deny that the masks have come in handy a time or two. For example, my husband and I were at the gym the other morning using free weights. We have been wearing black mesh neck gaiters as they are easier to breathe through, which is definitely a plus when working out. Trying to be a conscientious and hygienic rule follower, I took my disinfectant-smothered paper towel and proceeded to wipe the handle part of the dumbbell, which I had set down on its end so it wouldn’t roll away. Apparently, wrapping my paper towel-covered hand around a vertical shaft and rubbing it up and down made a more phallically suggestive reference than I intended, which my husband not-so-delicately brought to my attention by laughing at me. Mind you, as he was masked, it wasn’t obvious to everyone around him that he was laughing, just anyone who might have been looking directly at him, as I was. He then mentioned that several other male patrons had also taken notice of my cleaning method. Thank you, neck gaiter, for concealing what I can only assume was a very red face.

I keep a spare mask or two in the glove box of my car because I tend to forget that I need a mask before I leave the house. I don’t know how many times I have walked to a store entrance only to have to do an about-face when I see the sign “Masks Required.” Now if only I can remember to bring the damn things in from the car instead of letting them incubate germs in the Arizona heat, that would be swell.

Original Post 09/2020