By: Peter Jay Once upon a time, before I became a celebrated media whore, I spent some time serving my country in the United States Army. I was a medic, which primarily consisted of me giving people injections of penicillin as a form of treatment for some social disorder or other. However, being the […]
By: Peter Jay
Once upon a time, before I became a celebrated media whore, I spent some time serving my country in the United States Army. I was a medic, which primarily consisted of me giving people injections of penicillin as a form of treatment for some social disorder or other. However, being the Army, they dragged us off into the woods periodically so we could practice being cold, wet and hungry. Apparently it is important for morale and such to realize that, as bad as your day-to-day might be in the Army, it could always be much, much worse.
So that would be me, from 2 to 4 AM Sunday pulling guard duty and freezing my ass off. It was here that I learned the value of being able to project myself into a more-favorable circumstance. There are a million variations of this game, from what will be my first meal back to which post dolly am I going to relieve my aggressions upon. Incidentally, the answer to these questions was inevitably: surf and turf with an extra lobster tail, and whatever sweet thang had a pulse, was conscious, and willing. High standards were not really my thing.
I remember when AIDS came to the forefront of society. At the time, coming up positive with HIV was pretty much a death sentence. We have some miraculous wonder drugs right now that can keep the infection below measurable levels, but back then, there was pretty much fuck-all nothing to treat the disease. People being people, I personally witnessed a great deal of positive projection on this topic. People used to say that if you can’t get laid on the day they find a cure for AIDS, you might as well have not been born. That seems a bit extreme now, but at that time, people were fairly terrified and apparently terror makes people horny. I have a theory that this explains the success of horror movies, but this theory has not been tested scientifically.
Society’s hopeful expectation these days is that there will soon be a vaccination which will prevent further spread of the COVID-19 virus. I fear that this will take much longer than people suspect, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, we will call the virus dead and focus on what it is that we miss the most and how we are going to re-introduce these elements to our lives.
My perfect post-Covid day!
I am personally motivated by my senses, so perhaps my day will not be a surprise to you. I believe that I would start off with one of the now-forgotten breakfast buffets at one of the local casinos. I was always fond of the buffet at Green Valley Ranch, but I would imagine that most of them are interchangeable. A belly full of good food and a gallon of coffee, and that is me sorted for Phase one.
Phase II commences with me actually visiting a dispensary or two. For the last few months, I have been patronizing a marijuana delivery service, rather than dealing with face-to-face contact, socially distanced or otherwise. One thing that I have determined is that marijuana delivery is the future of product acquisition, at least in my book. Yes, I probably pay an extra 10% or so for my monthly happiness investment, but to me it is totally worth it. Of course, your mileage may vary. Delivery isn’t perfect, though; you can’t really get a solid idea of what your product looks like by solely looking at a picture.
As long as I am being honest, I can also admit that there was this really, really cute budtender at a Henderson dispensary that I used to frequent. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again, either! What can I tell you? My humanity is my weakness. Maybe that is the thing that I miss most about this whole self – quarantine thing: just seeing other people’s faces. Zoom and Skype and Google Meet are all very nice, but you really can’t high-five a computer monitor. Well, I guess you can, but very little good will come from that.
Now you might think that phase 3 will have something to do with dinner. You silly, silly reader. I am a middle-aged man who ate an enormous breakfast, so I will tell anybody who asks (and even those who don’t) that I will be good until I have a sandwich later that night. Let’s just say that at this point, phase three is fluid. Maybe I will go to one of those recliner movie theaters and watch a flick; maybe I will go to a strip club and drink $20 draft beer. One thing that I will say that I will not be doing:
Watching fucking Netflix.
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