I hadn’t seen my friend Karina for ten days or so and I was missing her. For the last four days, the only person I’ve seen is Renato, the Italian chef who’s staying at my place for awhile. That’s because I’ve been sick. Haven’t left the house.
Karina and I exchanged e-mails this morning and agreed to meet at Starbucks at 1:30. How I wanted some more human companionship! As I drove north towards London, however, I realized this was a big mistake. I was dizzy. So what exactly was I doing driving a car? Where’s the compassion for innocent folks on the road who could be killed by my wandering mind?
I was coughing. So what exactly was I doing, planning to sit down with a dear friend and thereby share my germs with her? A couple of days ago I was talking to my friend Cathy on the phone. She’s a pharmacist. Cathy thought it possible that I’d contracted a virus that some people have seen stretch on for six weeks. Did I want Karina to experience that unsavory result while I got to meet my face-to-face conversational needs? No!
I’ve been lonely the past few days … but so what? We all go through this. Do no harm, Bruce.
I got to Starbucks, opened the door and saw Karina getting her drink at the counter. I walked sort of up to her (six feet away) and said:
“This was a bad idea. I’m sick. I don’t want you to get sick. I’m going home. I love you.” We smiled. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman look up from her laptop, perhaps fascinated by the dialogue that unfolded.
Karina and I waved to each other. No hugging. No lingering conversation.
“Make sure you text me that you got home safe.”
And I did.