Remember back in college when we used to brag about “doing shots?”
You know. A shot of tequila with a lick of salt and a squeeze of lime. Or if you were a real drinker you might have a boilermaker (shot in a beer) while the tamer crowd would try sweet and colorful “jello” shots.
It’s been many years since I’ve had much more than a glass of wine with dinner. But now us senior citizens are once again doing shots, even if our choice of poison has changed.
Covid shots are all the rage among the over-65 set. We call our friends to report “got my shot today,” or post it on Facebook. Not to be outdone, friends respond that they’ve already had their “second shot.”
We share every detail of the scheduling ordeal, all the computer crashes and then that miracle moment when we finally got through or received a surprise phone call. An appointment. A line. Everything in order. Maybe a slight prick.
Instead of a hangover from too much whiskey, the effects of Covid shots are more likely a little swelling or soreness. Maybe a headache or if you hit the jackpot a day or two of illness.
We brag about the adventure, just like we survived a boilermaker. We call friends we haven’t talked to in years to recommend they join the parade. We’re so excited to be doing shots because we can see this year-long nightmare is starting to wind down. It’s not over yet, but we are on the road home.