Revelations at hand

So here we are on the sidelines, conscientiously in our masks, watching in disbelief as the gyre widens and unnamable things slouch their way along.

 But never mind all that, how about those masks? 

Are mascara sales up and lipstick down? 

My eyebrows have taken on new importance, now they’ve decided to reach out like an homage to Andy Rooney.

 Is it whimsical or obsessive to match your mask to your outfit? Nancy Pelosi seems to carry this off just fine. 

 Do you know how long it took me to realize that no, that’s not a stray hair caught inside my mask (how is it there every time?). My masks are home-sewn and what’s been driving me to twitchy distraction is simply a thread I forgot to clip.

 Thank heaven for purses. Otherwise I’d be joining the legion of men you see reaching for the door of an establishment only to turn around and head back to their car for a mask. 

 And yes, I did briefly join the mask police.

 I was in the shade department of Home Depot, wearing my mask as was the nice young lady waiting me. As were the two men employees also at the shade desk. The last employee, a woman, was chatting up the two men. Her mask hung below her mouth, I suppose all the better to chat – or charm? 

My order settled, I complimented my young lady on how helpful she’d been. I then said, “I’m now going to become a grumpy customer.” She looked startled, but said nothing. I told her, “Someone should tell your co-worker a mask in not a chin protector. She spreading germs right now. And I’m sorry you have to work with her.”