Trapped at the Till

By Julie Maude

At work today I sneezed in my mask
Before leaving home, forgetting to ask
Had I shoved in my bag all the things that I’ll need
For working the till as part of my deed
To help serve the nation, in spite of the chances
Of catching this virus, our work must proceed.

So I sneezed in my mask without any tissues
Causing me stress and unmentionable issues
I looked at the groceries and tried to stay calm
Shame hidden from shoppers, no need for alarm
And suspecting they knew, from sideway glances
I continued my scanning with unusual charm.

A customer asked if this price was right
I mumbled an answer, my voice too light
“Pull down the mask, show me your face!”
Such a reveal would end in disgrace
Straining through sn*t to give lucid answers
To this bothersome man, get him off my case

Many more customers were in line
An essential key worker, I had to shine
Go on serving, keep on with my task
Despite the torment, beneath my mask
Who would’ve thought, what were the chances
Of being in this mess, I’d prefer you not ask.

I struggled to breathe and my face was all itchy
Raising my brows, my nose became twitchy
The clock on the till showed too long to my break
I grimaced and wondered how long it would take
For my sneeze to dry and halt it’s advances
As my place at the till I could not yet forsake.

But then it started to happen again
“Please hold back,” said my brain
“No,” squealed my nose, beginning a sneeze
Clenching my buttocks, rubbing my knees
I let it all out to innumerable glances
“Give me a tissue, someone now, please!”

Nobody moved, just stood there and stared
Amongst all these people, not one of them cared
I used my mask to blow my nose
Feeling embarrassed from my head to my toes
I backed from the till in the most awkward of stances
“Excuse me people, this till must now close.”

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Written Word ‘Hand’ poems