Don’t worry—with this whole new COVID-19 surge, we’ve decided it’s better to play it safe and not do anything for Thanksgiving this year. It isn’t worth the risk.
We’re just going to have a small dinner. Me, your father, and Emily and Jeff from next door—we’re like a pod thing. So small and safe. Their son might be driving in from Michigan with his new girlfriend as well, but everyone has been strictly quarantining.
Really, I haven’t gone anywhere or seen anyone in weeks—months even! I only ducked out to the grocery store yesterday. Well, I had to go to four different grocery stores because no one seemed to have xanthan gum, which I need for the gluten-free piecrust I’m making in case Emily and Jeff’s other son decides to drive up from D.C. to join us. You’ve met him. He works for that congressman from Ohio, so he’s definitely been COVID tested many times.
And, don’t worry, I wore two masks to the store to be extra safe! One of them was even a fancy KN95 that I got from my friend Carol—you know, she works at that nursing home on Eighty-sixth? She gave it to me when we met for a socially distanced lunch last week at that tapas place downtown that does the squid thing you like. They’ve got this cute little outdoor dining space set up, with plastic tarps and heat lamps, so it almost feels like you’re inside, but it’s outside, so it’s safe!
Listen, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m being super careful, and this is the healthiest I’ve ever been. My neighbor Paula has been teaching these yoga classes for anyone in the building who wants to join, and just look how far I can bend now. It’s all thanks to Paula’s guiding hand. Yeah, we meet in person. We tried doing the classes over Zoom, but it wasn’t the same. It honestly started to feel more dangerous not to have her in the room to correct my form. Bad form can cause real damage! But, don’t worry, she only allows, like, six, sometimes eight people per class, and she’s in a B-line apartment, so she’s got that big living room. Practically a hundred and eighty square feet. And she always keeps the windows open when it’s not raining or cold. It’s so safe!
I promise I’m taking this very seriously. Unlike your cousin Kevin. You won’t believe what Kevin did. He went to some kind of crazy sex party or concert or something in a warehouse on Staten Island. Your Aunt Susan said that he came home covered in glitter—lips and chin, too, so you know he wasn’t wearing a mask. Can you believe how irresponsible that is? Behaving like that when he lives with his sixty-five-year-old mother? So dangerous! I said to her, “You have to tell Kevin to be more careful. This COVID stuff is serious!” Yes, I said exactly that when she came over yesterday to watch “The Crown.” I’m not messing around with this stuff.
Well, O.K., sure, I did take the subway once last week, and also when I went to the dentist on Monday. But the train car was practically empty, and the twenty or so people in there were being very careful. There was even an old lady on the train—much, much older than me—so everyone was really diligent. She was doing that thing where she put a tissue between her hand and the pole to avoid any germs. And she was meticulous about only pulling down her mask when she needed to sneeze into that tissue, but then put the tissue right back on the pole, so her hands didn’t touch anything. And, don’t worry, I made sure to only lick that subway pole twice, three times max. So I’m being totally safe. You don’t have to worry at all.
Anyway, you’re coming for Thanksgiving, right? It’ll be so safe.
