Corona Virus Diary: NYC - March 10....
You notice it in a lots of little ways; people waiting for the next subway arrive, because this ones a little too busy. You get off at a station and the fragrance of bleach persists. Somebody gets out of their seat to stand, and holds onto the pole with a paper towel.
Above ground, you don't bother going into a drugstore for rubbing alcohol, hand sanitizer, aloe vera (so you can make your own), or Clorox wipes. Toilet paper also seems in short supply, although the local bodega seems to have plenty, because you can only buy them in little 4 packs. Those dumbass hoarders you see want 100 packs, and they buy them 5 at a time "just in case."
People walk calmly down the street, rubbing their hands. On the subway today I saw a beautiful woman meditating, her hands face up, her screen showing the amount of time left, her earbuds were firmly in place, delivering a calming message.
Emails come in from all sorts of institutions: the local arts organization is canceling jazz and poetry nights, my bank assures me that markets will stabilize, my school sits and waits for the first case to close us down.
We have meetings