A War Zone with Spa Amenities.

So - I‘ve survived the FedEx package and week two of social distancing, but I have yet to know if I’ll survive the 300 lb woman in a motorized scooter shrouded in a mask and multiple scarves commandeering the aisle in the supermarket two feet away from me. She swivels the vehicle, looks at me and feels up the chicken beckoning to her health aide. I back up. Why is she there?

Has she not been listening to Cumo? Where was she when Andrew proclaimed the social distancing 11th commandment? Where were all the social distancing neanderthals when he said please don't wander New York like you had a lobotomy. ( I paraphrase. )

We know black mama in the motorized lyft you were here at the Harlem Renaissance. You were here at Studio 54 and you were here at the Limelight and The Bowery, but you may not be here next week and that might possibly screw up my chances of being here next week as well because I wanted to get some scallions for the Thai soup I needed to make. Breath…....

Honestly, I don't know or care if you can survive your stubbornness. All I feel right now is that your ignorant self righteous sense of independence might kill me. Shit!!! 6 ft Under was my jam back when, but right now, it’s 6 feet away or 6 feet under is what I’m slow dancing too.

I normally post stories of my not so prolific life which humors me and in turn, I hope you too.

But I heard an ambulance siren today and I paid attention in a different way.

Sirens are now a constant in New York City's backdrop- especially since I’m a block away from a police station, three blocks from a fire station and ten from a hospital.

To all my friends and family, I'm safe. Meaning, I can be rescued from a fire, report a mugging in a flash and just in case of the worst-case scenario; be triaged and keep my leg.

We and I mean New Yorkers, complain about almost everything. ( Like I’m complaining about Corvid Mary on the scooter who needs to keep her….…….. breathe!)

We complain about the emergency workers' using the sirens to avoid traffic.

But today working in my home; at my desk, I stopped.

Today; like a Muslim call to prayer or a church bell calling for alms, sirens echo up to my street, go past disappearing into the distance throughout the day.

Today a siren meant; someone's life.

Today the people trying to save that life were now tied to that life and in turn, so too were all their families.

Today that sound humbled me.

This trauma is all too real as we hold our collective breaths wearing Clorox spanks.

This virus is merciless and calls for a kind of bravery that panders to our ultimate self-indulgence, and morons are still whining. We are not running to a bomb shelter from an air raid..... .We just need to stay at home. How hard can that be?

You got Netflix, Hulu, Disney, Barnes and Noble, Food delivery and cashmere throws as we cook and order in wine. Staying in ain't that bad unless you’re being abused. Then run. Come find me. I'll open my door.

Otherwise.......In the words of the wise sage Sam Jackson " Stay the *#** home!" Chill.....Seriously........because most of us are might be living in a Corvid war zone but it's with Spa amenities.