Yesterday, as I passed a group of 3 or 4 men unloading boxes from a truck, I heard one of them say, in reference to me, “Look at the shape of that guy.”

I’m not obsessed with my body image but I had to ask myself (not him) what the hell he could have meant. I’m no GQ model but on appearance I’m perfectly normal enough that none would expect a comment like that. My shape? What would that even mean? Did I metamorphosize into some other creature?

Moments of befuddlement passed. I continued walking, never breaking stride. There was no one else around this man’s comment could have been directed at, leaving me to singularize myself and question my appearance.

My appearance?

Of course, I realized, I was wearing a pretty bold and unusual Charlie Brown t-shirt, bright yellow and black, with an image of Charlie Brown exploding in all the angst and agita an 8-year old could experience.

The dude had not commented on my shape. He said “Look at the shirt on that guy.” To me this is not a lot less remarkable than what I thought he had said. Instead of a potentially derogator comment about my appearance it was more of an awe-struck reaction of a growed-ass man to a Charlie Brown t-shirt. What did the shirt mean to him? What did it communicate? I will never know.

In other sartorial news I have invented, or concocted as we like to say, a new shame, one which likely does not exist except upon my insistence. When I walk through a room with linoleum or similar surface my left show makes a kind of kissing sound with every step I take. It is unmistakably clear and precise, and the shame it communicates is that I am wearing shoes that have holes in them. I am too poor to replace them.

I imagine people hear the sound, some of them at least, and think “I remember that sound. The walk of shame from my poorie days. The signature sound of someone too poor to buy new shoes and instead must risk walking in public streets and alleys with an exposed arch. Shame for that individual. Let us contribute to procuring for him a new pair of shoes.”

Is anybody really thinking like this? I doubt it. I know there is a certain type of person who listens to people as they exit the bathroom. They listen for the sounds of hand-washing and hand-drying, or else they wait for it temporally. They analyze and categorize individuals who, evidently, do not wash their hands with soap and water after peeing. These are bad, bad people. Sickening. Illness-inducing. Toxic swarm of Covid and Plague. 

And there are, I know for a fact, people who camp out near bathrooms solely to either call people out for this behavior or just make note of it for future shaming. They may also be listening for the sounds of the shoes with holes. They may also shame on that basis, doubling up. But more likely they stay focused on the germs.

I tested negative for Covid yesterday. It was a self-test but I am confident I administered it correctly. The issue with the test is that it likely only tests for previous variants, not any of the newer mutations, if there even are any. I don’t even know except I kept seeing headlines that Covid cases are rising again in NYC.

I could not find a professionally administered test anywhere yesterday that I could get to in time, although I could have started looking earlier in the day. But I slept 13 hours, not leaving much day to play with. I feel lethargic and sore in places I have no reason to be sore, and I have an occasional cough, and I have no appetite, I feel nauseous at times. I very nearly threw up several times on Thursday and Friday, and even sat by the toilet in that position of pukey prostration, but full vomitosity never happened. I feel closer to OK today but will try to take it in stride. I will take an extra dose of the panic pill.