Following COVID vaccine availability has been a collateral adventure which, perhaps, should not have been treated with a sense of humor. But I can’t help myself.
The other day, a friend called to say she’d heard a rumor there were appointments available at Duane Reade. She was right. So I made appointments for both shots — each at a different Duane Reade. And neither is my “local” Duane Reade although, as I’ve mentioned, there are Duane Reades (actually now Walgreens) on every other block in New York.
My neighborhood is highly residential. The Duane Reades with available appointments are in the theater district and that makes sense: fewer residents and smaller residences in that area which we New Yorkers call Hell’s Kitchen. (Some official character years ago decided Hell’s Kitchen was not attractive for some reason so decided to call it Clinton. He may be calling it Clinton but the rest of us are not.)
So tomorrow I will get my first shot. This is good. Also tomorrow, I will make roast chicken, heavy on the fenugreek. This is even better, even though it reminds me of the brilliant chef whose recipe this is. Floyd Cardoz was one of the early victims of COVID.
(Potsdam.)