Exactly a year ago today was the last time I went into the office to work. I had a feeling bad times were coming. At the end of the day I grabbed my camera and headed to Center Stage to take pictures of the Eric Johnson show for Atlanta Music Guide.
I remember keeping my distance from people, getting my shots during the first 3 songs and then scanning the venue for a spot to watch the rest of the show that would be out of the way.
"You can't stand on the stairs. Have a seat."
I was graciously given a comp ticket for the show. Typically these are in the back or on the side somewhere. That should be fine. I checked my seat location. 3rd row. Dead center. Incredibly nice of everyone involved. I made my way down the aisle, my big ole' backpack in my hands.
"Excuse me, pardon me, sorry..."
I inconvenienced about 10 people getting to my seat, not to mention everyone behind me. I sat there for 2 songs, surrounded by a very specific demographic of mask-less folks cheering and having a great time. I started to have a mini-panic attack.
"Excuse me again, pardon me, sorry again..."
I headed out across the street and down the escalator to grab a MARTA train to get home.
"NEXT TRAIN: 55 MIN" the sign apologized and maybe even shrugged a little.
I ordered an Uber. 5 minutes later a nice young lady picked me up and proceeded to get on the interstate the wrong way and then get lost despite the fact that the her GPS kept saying “Make a U-Turn” or “Turn left here” and eventually, “Recalculating.”
I rolled down my window and partially stuck my head out of it.
25 minutes into what should've been a 10 minute ride she dropped me off at the hulking MLK station and I jumped in my car.
When I got home I checked my work email. "Please work remotely tomorrow while we assess the ongoing COVID-19 situation. We'll be in touch."
