This morning I woke up and went into Trenton, to the CURE Arena, which for the past several months has been operating as a mass-vaccination site. I received my first of two Moderna COVID-19 vaccinations. I’m glad to have gotten the injection, despite any potential unknown health risks. (I figure Europe seems satisfied with them, even with the limited testing, and at this point the current risk of the virus outweighs the potential risks).
Last night I couldn’t help but think that these vaccinations would be wasted on me, the way my grandmother used to say the same about good wine. However, I suppose her comment was about her lack of ability to appreciate the quality, whereas as my reception of the vaccine feels like maybe I could have given my vaccine to another person… There are so many doses here in the states though, and being vaccinated prevents me from spreading it to anyone else. So that’s good.
I enjoyed a pleasant conversation with a nice young woman there. She was also receiving her first dose, but wasn’t sure if this was the correct location because the map on the website listed two locations with the same address. 81 Hamilton Avenue, the address of the Cure Arena. I mentioned that I noticed the same thing, and that interjection sparked a brief friendship between us. I think er name is Aries, or at least that is what it sounded like to me, she spoke softly, and of course the masks muffle everything.
After receiving my injection I went and sat in the waiting and observation area. Shortly after I sat down I noticed her walking towards the area, slowly, seeming confused as to where to go, where the exit was, and why people were sitting here. She saw me and walked in my direction. My friendly interjection must have signaled that I was safe, and that we could engage in some kind conversation. She said “I guess I’ll just sit here next to you” as she lowered herself into one of the several dozen blue cushioned chairs underneath the dim lights and industrial surroundings that you typically find in the corridors of most sports arenas.
We sat and spoke for our fifteen minutes of observation, though I noticed nobody was actually observing anyone. One of the first things she mentioned was how her friends were all doing the “vaccine shopping” and trying to find loopholes or travel around to see where they could get it. i could tell from her eyes, that her masked expression was one which signaled moral conflict and that of kind judgement upon her friends. But of course.
[Stopped to take call from A*** – returned to this entry on 2 April 2021]
I remember her checking her phone several times, myself reflexively reaching for my own, although never unlocking it. I hate how we feel the need to constantly occupy ourselves. I made some comment about her shoes, starting by saying “this may be a strange thing to say, but you’ve kept your shoes incredibly clean.” She laughed and I mentioned something about specifically the laces appearing bright white, though as I was saying it I saw a small smudge of dirt around the bottom most inside eyelet of her right shoe.
She mentioned how she had really only ever worn vans and the low top, traditional style before, but as she got older she started to buy more high-tops. She said that she preferred the high-tops because the style of today’s pants is short and leaves her ankles feeling cold. I remember thinking about whatever could be said of what I was wearing; a faded navy sweater from J Crew, tired looking from the ten or so years of wear, some wrinkled khaki colored linen pants, slip on cotton shoes that didn’t quite match the pants but was too close to pass as “fashionable.” These days I dress for comfort. I never used to consider comfort when selecting clothes. I never separated “going out clothes” from”house clothes” either. But we all change over time.
I remember her nail polish, a wedge designed pink and clear motif which seemed to have been professionally done. While her outfit did indeed have an air of casualness, it was the sort that suggested she was fashionable, yet didn’t want to put much effort into what she wore that day. And why should she? Why should any of us. Especially if the only reason we are leaving the house is to sit in a dimly lighted corridor of a cold and cold-feeling minor league baseball stadium in a town that everyone loves to forget unless they have something bad to say about it.
[Ended due to: lost to memory]