In the movie Snatch there’s this great scene (one of many, actually) in which a rough guy named ‘Boris the bullet-dodger’ is mentioned to the American diamond dealer ‘Cousin’ Avi by another rough type aptly named ‘Bullet-tooth Tony’. Avi immediately interrupts: ‘why do they call him the bullet-dodger?’
The answer is of course quite obvious: ‘because he dodges bullets Avi…’
I felt like Boris a bit lately.
The bullets are flying all around, and in the past two to three weeks, so many friends have been firmly hit, and sent into quarantine. I have gotten awfully close a couple of times. I could taste the smell of covid in the air. My corona app has lit up several times in recent days; after sharing a ride with a person that tested positive a few days after, after weekly shopping for groceries, and I think simply after spending too long in my university building, albeit I’m alone in my office.
So far, I dodged them all, these tiny covid bullets. I’m bulletproof!
Or well…
Maybe not.
We’ll find out soon enough. This morning when I wanted to drop my son off at daycare, several daycare staff members had just tested positive. Among them were people that I’m 100 percent sure that my Rafa spent hours and hours in the same building and room with yesterday, and the rest of the week. It’s virtually impossible that he didn’t catch it, I suppose. Or is there still some room for wishful thinking? He at least still tested negative this morning, but I’m expecting this to change pretty soon. And then, well, what can I say. Our apartment is small, and he’s usually coughing his lungs out without any effective sneezing or coughing etiquette. What else could you expect from a two year-old? If he has it, escaping it will be improbable. I could isolate in the cellar, maybe. (I’m not sure if I have any internet in the cellar, if my blog dies in the coming days, I’m probably getting bored to death in my isolation cell.)
I guess all we can do of he tests positive is double masking indoors, and hope for the best.
Let’s see who’s still dodging bullets now… No one’s bulletproof. After all even Boris caught a few in the end.
Robin Heinen 