Venturing Out in Oregon’s Phase One

Okay, I did it. I ventured out into the new world of Lincoln County’s Phase One reopening. Parts of my journey were almost normal, parts very much not. Fear of COVID-19 still hovers everywhere.

Post office. Mask on. Rush in, grab my junk mail from the box, rush out.

Out to lunch! First time sitting in a restaurant since March 13. Sitting in my usual section at Off the Hook, just south of the Yaquina Bridge, I could look out the window at the La Quinta hotel across the street and the traffic on 101 and pretend nothing had changed.

I wore my mask in, but of course I couldn’t eat with it on, so I stashed it in my purse. At 11:45, I was the only customer.

The owner, a big guy with curly reddish hair, did all the hosting and serving, no sign of the usual servers. He wore a yellow mask and offered a paper menu that he tore up as soon as I had made my selection. They were still restocking, he explained. Items that he had in stock were highlighted in yellow. No problem. They had my crispy chicken sandwich with fries and iced tea.

He was exceedingly polite. Ma’am this and thank you that. I asked how he was doing in this crazy time. Doing the best we can, he said.

After noon, others arrived. It’s a seat-yourself place, but the owner moved one party, noting the COVID regulations. Have to spread out, he reminded them.

The food was delicious, as was the novel I was reading, Same Sweet Girls by Cassandra King. I drank enough iced tea to keep me awake for days. I ate every bite of French fry, every pickle, and every bit of breading that fell off my chicken.

A nearby TV screen played a Ducks-Beavers baseball game. I thought nothing of it at first, but then thought: wait, the universities are closed, and nobody is playing baseball now. Plus the two Oregon teams only play each other once a year. It’s a big deal and certainly not happening on an ordinary Wednesday in May. This game was a rerun.

It felt great to be out. I admired the neon beer signs on the wall opposite me and the soft country music easing out of the speakers. Maybe it was actually a lot louder; I wasn’t wearing my hearing aids. My hearing aid guy warns that many of his clients have lost hearing aids while putting on or taking off their masks. I wasn’t taking a chance.

I lingered, I read, I sipped tea.

Restroom? I thought about making a pit stop at home, the only facilities guaranteed COVID-free, but doing the math, I could see that all of the restaurant workers were male, and the two female customers had not left their booth, so the restroom was probably clean. I used it, taking my time washing my hands and drying them with the blow dryer.

Next stop, groceries. I’m getting used to the whole thing. The mask, sanitizing my cart, not touching what I don’t intend to buy. Who knew I was such a toucher? J.C. Market is considerably less hectic than Fred Meyer, although more expensive, and prices seem to have gone up. My bill was a shocking $181. I took my time at the store, too, browsing, picking up things I might need and things I definitely needed.

Most of the shoppers and staff were wearing masks. I have noticed the competition for cool masks is ramping up. Just wait till my music mask arrives in the mail. Meanwhile, I didn’t feel like I was suffocating this time.

At the checkstand, my cashier Paula was more relaxed, too. I had brought back the heavy plastic bags they sold me before. You’ll have to load them, she said. Fine. But then a bagger appeared and I let him do it. Soon I was back in the car slathering my hands with sanitizer.

My last stop was Poolside Jan’s, which sells spas and supplies for maintaining them. I needed bromine big-time. The water was starting to smell funky. Were they open? Sort of. A big sign on the door said: STOP. Customers were instructed to telephone and place an order which would be brought out to them. While I was listening to the phone ring, a worker pushed open the heavy door just enough to peek out. A table blocked passage. I told her I needed bromine tablets. Large or small? Large. $61, she said. Ouch. In a minute, she brought me the huge bottle and I passed in my debit card. I waited till she returned with card and receipt, then backed away for me to lean in and grab my bromine, card and receipt. “These are weird times,” she said. “Sure are,” I answered.

Coming out of the parking lot I almost ran head-on into a van coming out of the coffee kiosk across the street. Luckily, the other driver stopped and wound up following me onto southbound 101. At the stoplight, I took off my mask. Done. Whew.

Home. Some blue peeking through the clouds. Trees moving slightly in the breeze. Robin pecking for worms. Annie anxious for her walk as I put everything away.

Now it’s Memorial Day. This weekend, our coastal communities have been deluged with tourists, most of them not wearing masks or keeping their distance. It’s like trying to hold back a tsunami. We are still supposed to social distance, wear masks, and avoid congregating in groups. We are not supposed to travel more than 50 miles from home–all of Oregon big cities are more than 50 miles away–but the visitors are here.

The pandemic is not over. We have done so well up to now in Lincoln County. We have only had nine people testing positive for the virus, nobody dying, largely because the locals have stayed home and the tourists have stayed away. I’m afraid that’s going to change now. I enjoyed my foray into the world, but I will continue to limit my travels. I’ve got food, bromine, dog, guitar, Netflix, and Zoom. I’m staying home.

Have you gone back to normal activities at this point? Please share in the comments.

Author: Sue Fagalde Lick

writer/musician California native, Oregon resident Author of Freelancing for Newspapers, Shoes Full of Sand, Azorean Dreams, Stories Grandma Never Told, Childless by Marriage, and Up Beaver Creek. Most recently, I have published two poetry chapbooks, Gravel Road Ahead and The Widow at the Piano: Confessions of a Distracted Catholic. I have published hundreds of articles, plus essays, fiction and poetry. I'm also pretty good at singing and playing guitar and piano.

4 thoughts on “Venturing Out in Oregon’s Phase One”

  1. We were able to return to God’s house yesterday. It felt very strange putting on nice clothes and make up. There was, of course, no hugging or handshaking and everyone seemed to be keeping the required distance. Everyother row in the sanctuary was roped off with colorful crepe paper streamers. The stage was flanked by towers of blue and white balloons. A choir of 8 people sang songs that brought tears of thankfulness. It was good to be there. P,S. I was one of less than a dozen to wear a mask.

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    1. I’m happy for you and John. Sounds nice. I have actually been going to church Saturday afternoons all along to do music for the video Mass that goes online on Sunday mornings. There are just a few of us in the building, and having the camera on us changes the feeling, especially when we have to stop and do something again. Like your church, ours is open now for limited numbers, well separated. The video Masses continue for everyone else.

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  2. Went kayaking and paddle boarding yesterday, Memorial Day. Picked a nice quiet spot, not the beach, to social distance and paddle with my grandsons and my other two sons. Tried our hand at fishing. Only one caught. All in all, quite a lovely, relaxed, and contented time was had by all. Great way to spend social distancing with family together apart.

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