Eating out in the time of COVID
On Being a Muppet
Do you crave eating out, for a bit of normalcy? Have you eaten out of late in the time of COVID-19? If you answered yes, then it was literally out, as in outdoors. In the state of California, the only way to eat at a restaurant currently is to eat outdoors.
Well, there is certainly something to be said for going out for a meal to feel “normal” again, except that the experience is nothing but normal.
Protocols required upon arrival would seem like an episode of “Black Mirror,” except it is now our daily lives.
Upon arrival, the immediate awkwardness is facing a host or hostess who greets you with a mandatory temperature check. Step back please, and let this happen. Do not cross the entry line. This temperature check may either involve a forehead beam, like a Star Trek episode (beam me up for appetizers Scotty!), or, a wrist scan. I prefer the wrist scan personally, as somehow, it feels much more upscale and dainty and less accusatory. Almost like you’re being fitted for a watch. Wanna buy a watch? No, just a glass of white wine, please.
Now, once the business of body temperature is over, you must be hear about the menu — or should I say, where to find the menu. Menus are now only available via a scan of a bar code using your phone. But what if you were Amish and did not use phones? What if you didn’t have a phone? What if your battery was dead? Or what if you just wanted to get off your phone for ONCE in your 21st century life? No such luck. The only solve is to peruse the menu online at home before the outing, just to maintain an analog experience. Thank me later for this handy tip, but only if you don’t want to be sucked back into your personal device once seated. Thanks, COVID.
Now remember, you must wear your mask when walking to or from your table, or to the restroom. Or if you decide to do “The Tequila” Pee Wee Herman dance suddenly in the middle of your meal. That, too.
All of this communication comes with a level of straining to hear what is being said. That is because everyone is covered in muting devices of all manor. The host is wearing a facemask AND a visor. It’s like Bunsen and Beaker without the experiments! And you can barely hear anyone.
And so, they walk you to your table.
So, we sit down with those friends or family for which we have entered into the “circle of COVID trust.”
What is the “Circle of COVID trust”? This is a circle of trust arbitrarily decided in a vacuum by simply deciding,
“I trust this person without a mask despite having zero evidence they are safe.”
Good talk. Very scientific. I am just as much a participant of this theory by the way. My mother is in my circle of COVID trust. We never see anyone. She never sees anyone. We decide we can hug.
So we go out to eat to talk together, and to get off our phones, right? But now, we are staring at our phones to pull up the menu. I miss the days of being able to hold a lovely paper menu in my hand, to feel the tactile nature of it, perhaps its leather bound edges and think to myself,
“Hmmmm, what do I want to eat?”
But no, COVID has robbed us of this simple joy.
Here comes the waiter!
He has a thick, red facemask that isn’t big enough for his face. He has a Gaston-like jaw and chin. And, a full face visor is pulled over his head like it was time for some welding. It is like humans are now carrying bank teller windows on their heads. I want to slide my words under his visor like dollar bills on a counter, and have him verify, counting out my word bills slowly to verify he’s received them!
The waiter tells us the specials, but I can’t help but notice the Muppet-like quality of his speech. Its like Charlie Brown’s teacher.
“Wah wah wahhh wah wahh wahh, white fish.”
Try this with a waiter who speaks English as a second language. GOOD LUCK. No enunciating from the diaphragm will help anyone here. Should we all just carry a game of Pictionary with us everyone and draw out what is happening instead? That could actually be fun.
As our waiter speaks, his mouth expands and contracts, creating concave areas of thick red fabric moving in and out on his face. His mask moves up and down repeatedly with his Gaston-like chin pulling it forward, and then it seems like the whole thing might slip right off the top of his nose! I can barely concentrate with all this mask athletica while trying to discern the muffling of his speech. All this, and his visor is already filled with a cloudy film of saliva as he strains to be heard. Gah!
Can you go out and enjoy a good meal in the time of COVID? Yes, you can. But can you survive the protocols of Muppet-dom in between? I’ll leave that to you my friends.
Let’s try to find the humor of it all. And maybe all this straining to hear will mean we become better listeners when all this is over. Or maybe it will mean we can now gaze into someone’s eyes with more meaning and purpose moving forward, because its all we have now to read of our collective humanity. Goodbye smiles, hello eyes. I support mask wearing in all its splendor, for the safety it provides. So let’s go forth, and be happy Muppets for the safety of all.
We are all Muppets in the time of COVID. Cheers.
