Lately, I've found myself in a few spots of bother.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
Spots are everywhere: under my feet, before my eyes.
Sometimes they morph into lines, but they are turning into one big blur of trouble for me.
The spots are meant to guide us in these distant times, but I've had serious trouble keeping in step with this strange dance.
I like to call it the COVID shuffle.
I've never made a secret of my inability to coordinate my feet in even the most simplest of sequences, so thank goodness restrictions are easing as I have been stepping on many toes.
It is said Australians like going against the flow, stepping over the line.
Rubbish.
The pandemic has proved that Aussies are pretty good at toeing the line. If you have trouble doing this, you can expect a stern correction.
My first misstep was at the newsagency. I waited behind the obvious line to pay, but when it was my turn to step up, I noticed there was a hefty gap between me and the counter.
I'd stepped about one centimetre into the breach when the woman behind the counter loudly instructed me to get back behind the line.
OK, but I was so far away that I seriously thought I'd have to Frisbee my card towards the eftpos machine and hope it would make fleeting contact in order to pass the beep test.
Thank goodness restrictions are easing as I have been stepping on many toes.
Instead, I chose an advanced yogic stretch to get my short torso and arms closer to the eftpos machine.
I managed the maneouvre. It wasn't elegant, but I stayed behind the line ... just.
Also, I didn't pull a back muscle.
Well done me.
Onto my next test: the Aldi checkout.
I'd unpacked my meagre haul on the checkout belt and was standing beside it waiting until the person in front of me had moved on. I thought this was standard procedure, until I heard an "ahem" behind me. A woman, who was a good metre and half away, refused to move up the line until I had both feet in the next circle on the floor.
Once I was in the magic circle, she could safely stand in her's. I was going to point out that, by not putting both feet in the regulation circle, I was actually further away but, at that point, my head hurt.
I needed a drink. I glanced at the alcohol section. Prosecco was the closest, but I was not sure if anarchy would erupt if I left my magic spot momentarily to visit the liquor precinct.
I decided to check out, pack my goods, take them to the car, then circle back for a spot of bottle browsing. Swings, roundabouts and alcohol isn't usually the smartest mix, but these are crazy times.
The Aldi double-dip was completed without any more fouls against me.
It was looking good, until I took on the pharmacy. This involved an extra level of skill. There was a line denoted by other lines. I stood where I thought was right, but a pharmacy assistant indicated that the line started "around the corner".
The assistant was a bit short with her instructions, probably because she had been repeating the procedure to confused types like me all day.
I assumed she wouldn't see me if I was around the corner, but I didn't want to stir a pot that was about to boil over. So, I stood behind a line, within a line with no one but me in it, around the corner.
After showing I could behave myself, I was allowed into the shop. There were arrows denoting one-way aisles. It was like being in Ikea. I got to the counter and asked for the strongest tablets to combat a nagging headache/pain-in-the-backside double-whammy.
Payment was mercifully easy, so I began a lively quick-step out of the shop. But, I took off up the wrong one-way aisle.
I forged on.
After so many stumbles in one day, I wasn't going to quit at the final turn.
Maybe because the pharmacy gatekeeper sensed the dance was over, she let me pass without incident.
Once out, I was tempted to do the Watusi, but there was no way I was lining up again for Dencorub to ease a strained hamstring.
I shuffled away quietly.
The circle was complete. At least for today.